


But Watch the Queen

by Castiloar



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Canon Typical Violence, F/M, Long 18th Century AU, Minor Character Death, Napoleonic AU, POV Alternating, Rating to Change, Slow Burn, background stormpilot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiloar/pseuds/Castiloar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Historical Arranged Marriage AU]</p><p>“Don’t be afraid.  I understand.  You were so utterly alone, for so long.  No family to remember, no friends of note until so recently - how were you ever supposed to understand how a hand could bring pleasure or comfort when it had only ever been raised at you in threat,” Ren crooned gently.</p><p>His words tugged at Rey as she paled, feeling the colour flush from her face and her heart sink through her chest, turning to ash as surely as if they had set off one of the powder kegs.  “You can’t be in my head, so how would you know any of that?”  She asked despite herself.</p><p>“I don’t need to be in your head.  It is written on your face for those who are looking to read it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you as always to my magnificent and patient beta, DVeleniet. And many thanks to you kind souls who take the time to read!
> 
> As a history MA, I solemnly swear to do my best in upholding the family honour with one significant deviation. I adored women simply being everywhere in TFA, and was loath to completely relegate them to the background. So I am bending the rules here and there within a framework that adds to the plot. We all want Brigadier-General Phasma and Senator Organa, right? 
> 
> This story serves as a continuation to the Force Awakens, assuming all events happened as they did but in such a way that agrees with the technology of the Napoleonic era. The Falcon becomes a sloop, the best pilot becomes the best equestrian, blasters become muskets, and so on. My meagre attempts at accompanying art can be provided if there is an interest.

* * *

 

“Don’t you want to be free?”

That was what they always asked, before they took something more away from her. She didn’t understand where they had come from. One morning a big group of men had called the whole town together and told them that they were free from ‘oppression’ and under their protection.

“You have to help us. We are fighting for your freedom, after all. Don’t you want to be free?”

Another meal off of her family’s makeshift table.

“We all must make sacrifices to keep our freedom. Don’t you want to be free?”

And with that, her uncle was kicked off his plot of land.

“You have to contribute to our cause. Don’t you want to be free?”

They stomped into the house with their dirty boots, tracking mud all over the floor and leaving with her mother’s beloved tea cups.

And then, finally, it was _her_ they took away.

Did she want to be free?

She thought she did, but maybe she didn’t understand what freedom meant.

She wanted to be free to go to Miss Telwar’s school on Wednesday nights. She was very close to remembering how to write the whole alphabet, and there was always enough pieces of chalk for her to practice with. Miss Telwar had even promised to teach her how to read when she could remember all of the letters!

She wanted to be free to run in the woods with her brothers when they finished helping her uncle in the fields for the day, and she was done helping her mother with the chores. There were hidden places only she and her brothers could find, and she always felt safe there.

She wanted to be free to eat enough that she wasn’t hungry, as her family had been most days - except in years when the harvest was really bad, of course. But soldiers in white uniforms had usually brought them more food in those times, not always good things to eat, but enough to get by.

So, yes, she thought as the Freedom Men dragged her away. She did want to be free, but not the way they meant. She wasn’t sure how they meant it.

They talked about how horrible the people were who had controlled Teptixii - which was apparently what the place her village was in was called - how they denied them their ‘liberty,’ and restricted the ‘flow of trade’ in and out of the island, forcing them to sell their harvests to the First Order.

But whoever those horrible people were, they had never made her wake up before the sun, or continue to work until it had disappeared from the sky. They’d never kept her away from her family. And she’d never seen anyone working in the fields being beaten before…

She made the mistake of asking one day.

“How are we free now that we weren’t before?”

Her answer came in the form of a black eye and a swollen lip, along with some cutting comment about children needing to know their place.

She didn’t understand.

Were little girls not allowed to be free?

 

* * *

 

It took effort not to recoil, as it always did when Brendol Hux II dared to venture into the secluded chamber of the Supreme Leader. To recoil would show hesitance, of which he had none. The Supreme Leader was beyond Hux’s confidence; his will was the foundation upon which all could be built. His word would bring order and stability to the chaos of the world.

If any doubt could be found, it would have been eviscerated with a single step across the threshold of the chamber, where his body was struck all at once with the vibrations of power and an ancient, suspended sense of time. The fetid odor that seemed a medley of decay hung in unnaturally still air, as if the Supreme Leader had quieted the world around him, unwilling to allow the distraction or bother it may have posed him.

Hux’s boots echoed off the weathered granite, profaning against the silence as he stepped in perfect rhythm towards the dais.

“General.” The Supreme Leader greeted him almost disinterestedly.

“My Lord.” Brendol waited until the Supreme Leader looked up from the tome that weighed in his lap before continuing. “My Lord, I would request permission to deploy the First Guards with their Knight Commander, Caeda Ren.”

The Supreme Leader surveyed him, lifting his chin from where it rested on his hand and closing the book. “What crisis has precipitated this request, General?”

“Following our… Following the events at Starkiller, my Lord, several insurgencies have risen in our territories, many under the guise of a Resistance cell.” Recalling the events sent an acrid burn down Hux’s throat, as if feeling the smoke rising from their once glorious fleet stinging his lungs all over again. Burned at anchor in what should have been safe harbour by the rebel scum. If forgiveness had been in Brendol’s nature, he would have been utterly devoid of it for the wretch that had cast the torch.

He fixed his face, determined not to allow his loss to mar his countenance as he continued. “One of these cells has occupied Teptixii, as our presence in that territory was severely compromised. They have taken control of the Teptixii grain fields, which are vital to our provisioning. Without first securing this source of supplies, it would be imprudent to move our forces to eliminate what remains of the Resistance.” A campaign which he fervently desired to wage. “While a regular regiment of Stormtroopers would dislodge these louts with ease, it would be for naught if significant damage was done to the current crop. I believe it likely that the insurgents will set fire to the fields should we move against them, purely out of spite. Caeda Ren and the First have proved adept at handling such sensitive situations.”

The Supreme Leader took a deep breath, pulling at the listless atmosphere of the chamber. He allowed Brendol to wait in silence as he surveyed him. “Caeda is a member of the Knights of Ren, General. You could have broached this request with the Knight’s Master, Lord Kylo Ren, and saved yourself the journey to my presence.” There was a pause. “As well as my time.”

A flicker of fear snaked through Brendol’s spine. “As always, my Lord, I seek your-”

“Do not waste my time with false flattery, General. And do not let your personal feelings slow your path to action again.”

Brendol stood, erect posture intact but trembling on the inside. “Of course, my Lord. Forgive me.”

The Supreme Leader waved a hand in dismissal. “I agree with your proposed course of action. Alert Caeda Ren and the First Guards. They are at your disposal for the purpose of this mission. Dispatch them as soon as preparations can be made. The Resistance has always made for a lively corpse; I do not wish them to slither from the grave we have so nearly pushed them into.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Brendol bowed crisply before turning on his heel and marching out of the room.

Ask _Lord_ Ren for permission? His step quickened, as if running from his own imagined vision of the man. He could _feel_ the satisfaction that would emanate off of Ren were he to ask _him_ for permission to deploy what should be Brendol’s own company to command.  He cursed under his breath, wondering not for the first time why the finest soldiers in the First Order were not under the control of its Generals.

He did not doubt the Supreme Leader, but Ren was another matter entirely. The man lacked the predictability and the pedigree for the position he held.  This was not a fairy tale that required an overconfident peacock with a magic sword.  It was only a matter of time before he caused an even greater calamity than what had befallen the Starkiller fleet if he was not brought into line.

 

* * *

 

She never heard them coming.

They came like ghosts in the night. It was the cries of the Freedom Men that woke her. Soon she, and all of the other workers crammed into the stinking bunkhouse ran into the night. The shouts and thundering of hooves becoming urgent enough for them to overcome their fear of the cudgels and whips that would greet such a display of disobedience.

Soldiers dressed in glinting white armour that sat over deep red uniforms were everywhere. She couldn’t see their faces, which were hidden by their helmets. Some rode great grey horses, others on foot. The Freedom Men were overwhelmed at all turns, striking wildly with their odd assortment of weapons they’d dug up from goodness knows where.

The swords and lances of the silent soldiers flashed in the clouds of smoke from their guns, cutting down the Freedom Men as some of them broke away from the fight, running with torches towards the field, shouting for others to do the same.

None of the workers joined the freedom men in attacking the soldiers, and none of them were harmed. The sound of another gunshot startled her, breaking her from her reverie as the freedom man who fired it was brought down with the swift thrust of a lance.

She turned from the scene and made a run for it - the Freedom Men were too busy fleeing to notice her disobedience - she could get away for sure!

But only a few steps later, a great hulking hand came around her waist, lifting off her feet and pulling her close to his chest.

She screamed, flailing as she felt the heat of the torch he was carrying creep towards her skin.

The armoured riders were all hesitant to charge him, shying their mounts away as he brought her and the fire closer to the field. What were they going to eat this winter if he burned it all? She kicked frantically, jostling him to try to make him drop the torch, or get away so maybe one of the soldiers would stop him. But he only tightened his grip and let the flame briefly lick her cheek, making her cry out.

When she had given up, fight draining out of her along with her hope, she found herself suddenly dropped as a humming noise filled the air. The man fell with an odd gurgling noise beside her, leaving her staring up at a strange figure.

She thought she was looking at one of the knights in the story books Miss Telwar showed her sometimes. The knight was draped in layers of rich black cloth and a long cape, but the burnt red glow of the strange sword humming in the right hand, and the shorter, matching blade in the left bounced off the dark metal plates guarding the figure’s neck, chest, arms and off the planes of a helmet that hid the knight’s face.

The knight stamped out the torch with a black boot before taking both blades in one hand, and offered help to her feet. She took it. The knight said nothing, but motioned for her to be quiet, laying a finger over hidden lips, and pointed towards the tall stalks of corn, before striding off back towards the fight.

She ran and hid, but peeked out to watch. There were few struggles left as most of the workers had run off, and most of the Freedom Men that were left standing had begun throwing up their hands and surrendering. A soldier in a fancier uniform made a series of quick motions to the others with their hands, and soon the Freedom Men were being tied up.

One didn’t seem to want to come quietly, though.

“Oh course they send someone like _you_ to step all over us!” He barked at the knight. His voice slurred a bit like he’d drunk too much.   “What chance would we ever have against _your_ kind!”

The knight had been walking away from the man, so she had no idea how they were able to whirl around and block the shot the man had taken at them with their glowing sword. How a sword could stop a bullet was also lost to her. The blade cut a track through the air in a sweeping arc, melting the lead ball which vanished with a _hiss_.

“Coward!” The man cried, throwing the smoking pistol to the ground. “You’d never fight me fair!”

The girl didn’t understand what he meant by that. The knight was fighting fair as far as she could tell, the problem for him was that the knight fought _better_ …

But the knight turned around to face the man, and the girl was surprised when the glowing swords shrank into nothing, leaving the knight holding two metal handles which they tossed towards the two nearest soldiers, who caught them. The knight stalked forward, and the man gave a great roar as he charged.

It looked like a lumbering bear trying to catch a cat.

The knight stepped out of his way, just enough to be out of reach. The man came again, and again, before heaving a few great breaths and starting to swing wildly with fists she knew to be cruel. The knight continued to take just enough of a step, or make just enough of a turn of their body to stay out of his reach - until something changed, and in a quick flurry of movements that were hard to follow, they lashed out in retaliation. Striking the man’s gut, chest, and head in quick succession. He made a strange noise before falling to the ground.

He didn’t get up.

The soldiers trooped up to the knight, handing the swords back. The knight made several of the strange hand gestures, which the nearest soldiers mimicked to those farther away.

As the sun crept over the trees, the soldiers fell into organised groups, those on foot mounting more of the tall grey steeds. She lost track of the knight after they mounted a powerful black horse, melting into the crowd. Before they trotted away, all of the soldiers tossed something from the pouches slung across their backs on to the ground.

Not one of them had said a word through the whole ordeal. As the last riders left the scene, she dared to leave her hiding spot and crept towards what the soldiers had dropped. Picking up one of the packages… It was food! Dried strips of salty meat and incredibly hard biscuits, but food all the same.

She gasped, scooping up a few packages and running towards her family’s house. She leapt the fence, speeding up as she heard her mother’s surprised gasp from across the small yard. She flew into her mother’s arms, dropping the food. Her mother stood, crying happily. Over her mother’s shoulder she could see new soldiers coming. They looked nothing like the ones from before, no horses and no armour, but they marched in perfect rhythm, wave upon wave of white coats and hidden faces. She recognised them: they were the same soldiers who sometimes brought food during the hard winters!

A redheaded man in a fancy black coat followed them on horseback, surveying the scene. He nodded curtly to a woman in a silvery uniform on his left, but almost ignored the tall figure on his right. The rider looked a bit like the dark knight that had saved her, but the armour was different and even sitting in a saddle she could tell he was much taller.

“People of Teptixii, your village and the rest of the territory have been freed from the brigands and thugs who have so cruelly oppressed you. You are now free in the protection of the First Order once again!” The man in the fancy black coat announced to the gathering crowd of onlookers.

The soldiers let out a round of _huzzahs_ and a few of the villagers cheered.

There was that word again. _Free_.

She didn’t know what the red headed man meant by it, and she still didn’t know what the Freedom Men had meant by it. But right now she was free to hug her mother, so it didn’t really matter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note that a saber is a typical sword carried by cavalry as well as officers. I have tried to be obvious when I am referring to a lightsaber as opposed to a normal saber. If a character probably shouldn't have a lightsaber (Ex: Poe) please assume I mean a regular old steel sword.

Only a fool would have been unafraid, and probably only an idiot would have pretended that they weren’t scared. Poe hoped that he was neither a fool nor an idiot, though he certainly admitted he had his moments.

They had stepped out of the shadows, flitting on the edges of the light cast by the torches on the walls.

Thirteen riders clad head to toe in black cloth and glinting blackened steel.

Kylo Ren rode in their center, flanked by six Knights of Ren on either side. Their dark horses stood almost unnaturally still, in stark contrast to the shying mounts of the other party that arrived in their wake. It was a collection of First Order officers, as well as a mob of standard bearers, thick banners flapping in the easy night breeze.

He thought he recognised General Hux among them - it was difficult to tell from the top of the D’Qar Castle’s outer wall.

“You rebels have been surrounded. There is no escape, by land or sea,” a sneering voice commanded, confirming Poe’s suspicions. “This is the end of your insurrection, the end of your perverse struggle against order. We are here to accept your unconditional surrender. If we have not received it along with your leaders by the first light of dawn, we will attack and show no mercy.”

He didn’t wait for a reply, and the officers lead by Hux wheeled about and galloped back into the darkness. The Knights lingered, almost tauntingly. Poe heard a gun being cocked, and turned to see Jessika Pava bringing one of the Knights into her sights.

“Leave it.” He brought his hand down on the musket. “They aren’t in range.”

She growled, setting it down.

“Colonel Dameron?” One of the young stablehands asked Poe timidly. “The General, sir, she asked me to find you.” Poe nodded, lifting his scabbard as he quickly descended the stairs.

The castle was old, its defences dangerously outdated. Though it served well as a base - centrally located but hard to find, plenty of space with ready access to the sea - it would not hold up for long in a real fight.

General Organa was surrounded by panicked officers in the main hall when he arrived. Some were offering suggestions, fighting over one another to be heard others while others seemed too afraid to speak. The General was bowed over a table in the middle of the room, hands gripping the edges tightly, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around her. Devoid of her that bright strength that usually radiated off of her in waves.

“You have to escape, General.” Poe said simply. He hadn’t spoken loudly, but the din in the hall quieted.

“I can’t leave you all here.” She shook her head, clenching the table tighter.

Poe nodded. “Take the wounded and as many as you can on the _Falcon -_ it’s the fastest ship we have here. Chewie can captain it. The rest of us will keep them busy here so you can escape.”

Chewbacca roared his approval - or what sounded like approval anyway. The odd warbling of the highlander from Kashyyyk with a face hidden in a mass of tangled beard was lost on Poe, but the Wookie usually managed to get his point across by expression and inflexion alone.

“The walls are sturdy, General. We may hold out for a time.” Admiral Akbar encouraged.

But he had to know that was a lie. Hope was needed by all, but a false sense of it would help no one.

“General, I don’t mean for my men to stay behind the walls. Please, let me take the cavalry out the escape passages, then collapse them behind us. We can find cover in the woods, wait for an opening and hit them from behind when they make their attack on the wall. If we keep them occupied, it might create an opportunity for you to escape,” Poe pleaded.

“Poe, I appreciate your bravery, but-”

“He is right, General - you have to escape. Even if we lose this battle, they cannot defeat us if you are free. You are the symbol of our fight, an inspiration to us all.” Major Ematt tried to keep a calm expression as he spoke, hands held behind his back, but the tremor of his voice betrayed his feelings.

The room hung in suspended silence, quiet enough to almost hear the dawn and Hux’s impending attack ticking slowly towards them.

“Alright.” The regret in the General’s agreement was tangible.

Poe couldn’t wait to see what happened next. How they chose to organise her escape and defend the wall was not up to him, he had to get into position while he had time.

“Come on we gotta move!” Poe called. It was an odd collection left to him: handfuls of the various regiments that had attacked the docked Starkiller fleet so bravely; hussars, a few dragoons and the other volunteers who had no real uniform or designation beyond a desire to resist oppression. They all jumped to him, and he felt a pang of guilt. He knew he was leading them into a death trap. But they had to go, nonetheless. The General had to get away.

There was a thin ray of light in the midst of such a grim outlook, however.

Finn would be safe.

The General would take Finn with her, away from this place, away from the people that had done him so much wrong. He had come so far - no one thought he would survive the wounds inflicted on him by that _beast’s_ hands. But he was far stronger than anyone gave him credit for. If Poe was lucky, if he made it out of this - maybe he would get to see him again someday. He tucked that tiny hope in the shelter of dreams as the cavalry tacked up in a blur, and he suddenly found himself at the head of the column trotting out of the hidden gates.

There was one benefit to outdated castles: they _always_ had secret passages. He silently thanked the paranoia of some medieval lord as he heard the tunnel collapse behind them. The column fanned out, walking as quietly as possible between the trees.

When he was satisfied with their position, he posted sentries, settling in for the night.

Now all there was to do was wait, and hope.

 

* * *

 

 

Hux had slowed his officers to a walk once they were out of view of the crumbling castle the Resistance had holed up in. Kylo likewise slowed, his Knights following suit around him. When had they last stood together? He couldn’t remember, but it was quite possible they had never assembled all thirteen in the same place.

Well, this was a special occasion.

“They are going to try something foolish.” Hux informed the group, sounding as if this was an enlightened piece of wisdom that he had imparted on them.

Caeda shifted next to Kylo, signing to him subtly.  _“Doesn’t he realise that’s all the Resistance knows how to do? When you’re always at a disadvantage you don’t exactly have a great deal of tactical options.”_

Ren’s lips curled into a chuckle, hidden by his mask.

“I agree, General,” he answered almost genially.

“I want to give them an invitation for their stupidity.” Hux pointed to the far left of their lines. “That forest offers cover if they thought to send out a force beyond the wall. I plan to leave our artillery appearing vulnerable on that flank. They will come right to us once we appear to have committed our main strength to an assault on the wall. We of course will leave our own hidden reserve to deal with them.”

Kylo nodded.

“There is also the matter of maintaining the blockade. General Organa will no doubt attempt to flee.”

Kylo stiffened, forcing himself to be silent inside and out. Her presence was not something he could afford to dwell on.

“If the _girl_ is here, she will undoubtedly be a part of their-”

“She is not here.” Kylo could taste the bitter tinge of disappointment on his tongue. Hux’s face soured at being contradicted, but he ignored it.

“Priscus, Aper, and Geta will join your main attack on the wall, General. They are at your disposal.” The Knights nodded, reining to fall in with Hux. “The rest of you are to secure the port and the blockade. Not a soul leaves this place, understood?” They nodded.

“Caeda, the First Guard and I will act as the reserve, General. I leave the rest to you.” Kylo finished.

Hux seemed amenable to this, nodding curtly. He kicked his horse into a gallop, and the other officers scrambled to follow him. The Knights of Ren dispersed as ordered, most to the ships and the rest with Hux, leaving Kylo and Caeda following at a calmer pace.

_“You are sure she isn’t here?”_

“Yes.”

Caeda’s head shook. “ _She is the only true asset they have left. This means nothing if we do not have her.”_

“It will not be the final victory Hux proclaims it to be, but she will have few places to hide without an organised Resistance to protect her.”

Caeda nodded. 

The First Guards fell in as they returned to the First Order lines, following Caeda and Kylo as they trotted briskly into place beyond sight in the tree line. The company dismounted in an orderly fashion, setting about making a temporary camp, sentries posting themselves without needing further direction. Caeda’s men were incredibly efficient, and he appreciated that.

Ren handed his stallion over to one of the Guards, stalking through the trees to watch the lights flickering in the castle.

Now all there was to do was wait for the light of morning, and the chaos it would bring to this place.

 

* * *

 

 

“That’s it! That is our opening, come on!” Poe shouted. His saber slid from his scabbard, and he held it high, hearing the rest of the cavalry follow suit.

He let the blade come to rest on his shoulder, leading them forward in an orderly fashion. They trotted out of the woods and as soon as the last riders were clear he brought them up to a canter before calling for the charge.

His horse surged forward under him as he brought his saber to point. The rest of his troops followed, and he could feel the thunder of the flying feet as they galloped straight at the artillery positions. This was it! The attacking force would have to turn back to defend their guns or they would have no hope of breaching the wall!

But then another group appeared from nowhere, blocking the line of his charge. The sun glinted off of their white plate armour - except for the two figures leading them.

Kylo Ren and another Knight. Both swathed in their black cloaks and black armour.

The opposing horsemen formed two organised lines in front of the artillery, and Poe heard no order as they leapt into a charge of their own.

The two sides were closing fast.

Guns fired on his charge’s flank, and smoke clouded the field. He could hear the cries of horses and people as the bullets ripped through them. Another line of the armoured horsemen had appeared, slinging their spent rifles over their shoulders and drawing swords before joining the charge.

He was caught between a hammer and the anvil, and he would have to break or bend.

As the last few strides were taken between the sides, Kylo Ren’s lightsaber buzzed to life in his hand, but more surprisingly, the Knight beside him also drew a lightsaber that sang in the air.

There was no other option now: he had to be a fool.

Poe rushed at Ren, who matched his line gleefully, easily cutting down three Resistance members to meet him.

Poe struck out with a swift cut, but his sword gave way, sheared in half by Ren’s lightsaber. He cast the useless thing to the ground, hastily drawing his pistol in one last hope. He was point blank - maybe he could do it? But the gun flew from his hand, misfiring in the air as it hit the ground.

Well, he had tried being a fool. Now all that was left was idiocy.

He launched himself out of the saddle right at Ren, which surprised him. He caught Ren around the waist, using the momentum to drive him out of the tack. The two landed roughly, with Ren managing to roll away from Poe who had to watch the flying feet of Ren’s enraged stallion.

Poe staggered to his feet, clenching his fists as he stared at Ren. The crimson band of light crackled between them. Two of the Resistance riders charged at the dismounted Ren, who lifted his free hand and sent them sailing into the air out of their saddles. They gripped their throats before sagging as Ren cast them aside as a child would a doll.

Poe was unarmed, and out of ideas. The white armoured riders were swarming all around him, cutting down his poor cavalry with ease. They were outmanoeuvred and outmatched.

“Who would have thought I would have the pleasure to find the best rider in the Resistance, _twice_.” Ren mocked him from behind his mask. “Order your troops to stand down, and I will still accept your surrender. They will not be harmed unless they resist, which you know in your heart is futile at this point.”

The words burned Poe’s tongue, setting a line of fire down his throat and into his heart, but he had a responsibility to the people around him. There was nothing they could do. They could not help General Organa now. He could only hope maybe, just _maybe_ the General had made it through. “Throw down your arms and dismount,” he commanded, voice breaking as he held up his arms in surrender.

He could hear the anguish around him even as the din of the fight slowly ebbed away as the order filtered through the confusion of the battle, though the distant sounds of the main attack on the castle raged on. The damn guns were still firing, and regiments of Stormtroopers were advancing in an orderly fashion towards a large breach in the wall.

One member of the Resistance was still on her horse, though.

“Jess, no!” Poe begged.

It was too late - she was charging at the other Knight of Ren.

Poe was sickened as Ren laughed, forced to watch helplessly as the Knight’s horse easily came around and met Jessika’s challenge.

Jessika brought her sword in a graceful arc, aimed to slash at the Knight’s neck, but the Knight leaned under the blow’s reach at the last second, jabbing a thrust into Jessika’s fully exposed side. It wouldn’t have mattered if it hadn't been a lightsaber: the dodge and strike were disgustingly perfect.

Poe felt hot tears form as Jessika tumbled from her saddle, landing in an unmoving heap on the ground.

“We’re done here.” Ren’s satisfied voice called out. “Fifth Platoon, secure the prisoners. Lieutenant Shah, report to General Hux and advise him that Caeda will take the remainder of the First to join the main attack.”

The riders moved efficiently, saying nothing. The other Knight drew up close to Ren, making some odd hand gestures in quick succession.

Only Poe was close enough to hear Ren’s answer, and his heart came alive in his chest again as he took in the words, not caring that he was being roughly handled and that his wrists were tightly bound behind his back.

“I must join our incompetent naval commanders. They are, as we speak, letting the _Millennium Falcon_ slip past their blockade. I will take part of the fleet and the _Upsilon_ to give chase.”

How Ren could know that, Poe could only guess. The Force, somehow.

The Knight’s hands were moving again in a reply that was lost to him, but Ren sighed before he answered. “Of course we cannot catch the _Falcon_. But we don’t need to, they are going to lead me straight to the girl. I will have her. One way or another.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for your time and warm reception to the prologue!
> 
> To those who may be curious, my attempts to portray how I am seeing Caeda, as well as Stormtroopers and First Guards can be found here: http://lionessoswald.tumblr.com/post/140710791374/because-why-not-napoleonic-star-wars-top-left


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What good was power if it could not be used to protect the people you cared about? What worth did patience have if you waited too long?
> 
> The Jedi Code seemed determined to mock life as she had lived it. The world existed in a state of chaos, and it was only a lucky few who ever had the time, money and security to find harmony. The rules of the world had never been in her favour, so she had learned to play the game her own way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! Thrilled to have folks along for the ride.

Rey had felt the darting flashes off of Master Luke from the day she had disembarked the _Falcon_ in a tattered boat and rowed herself to the stony shore of Ahch-To. The flares buzzed in a potent mix, one feeling only serving to render another more fully - anxiousness, concern, regret, and other things she could never quite place.

Whenever she asked questions, those feelings would press themselves in the mind of Master Luke. And Rey could sense them every time, no matter how quickly they passed, or how well he masked his face into the kind, calm man he appeared to be.

It stung, every time, a wound that never healed before it was struck at again. She wanted to understand what he was saying. She wanted to understand what he knew about the Force. She wanted to understand the Jedi, and the Sith, the Empire, the old wars… She wanted to understand it all.  

So she _asked_ him.

She did not need a Jedi Code exalting knowledge over ignorance. Jakku had taught her long ago that the way to survive was to understand everything around you. To know how to use it to the best of your ability. That was how she had survived. Asking questions of older scavengers, of the strange collection of people whose ships pulled into the forlorn harbour and anyone else she thought could give her answers she sought - and taking things apart on her own, learning all she could.

Ideas were not so different than physical things, were they? They could be taken apart in order to be better understood, so that they came back together stronger than before because you understood how they worked. You knew what parts of them were weakest or prone to break down, and what parts were the most resilient and never gave in.

Master Luke did not appear to agree.

The principles he sought to usher her into seemed self-evident and inscrutable to him. It did not matter that Rey never actually tried to argue, only that she questioned, and she persisted in her questioning.

A thought struck her one day, a dangerous thought, leaching through her with a chilling bite. Was this how it had started with _him_? Had that black mask, that rage and aggression been built upon the foundation of questioning Master Luke and the Jedi?  

She had quaked when the thought dawned on her after several weeks, and the fear haunted her ever after. A shadow crept at the edge of her thoughts when she opened her mouth, and she could almost see _him_ smiling, an imagined threat that she seemed to be openly courting. It did nothing to help calm the frenetic energy she sometimes felt caging itself inside her.

Years spent toiling in the sand and sun left their mark on a person, far beyond the tan and freckles that had begun to fade or the scattered scars that would forever be painted across her skin.

There were days of combing the beach. Searching for the washed up wreckage of ships that fell victim to the unpredictable weather and vicious reefs off of Jakku. Days of daring to ride out into the waste of vindictive sand that swallowed those who underestimated it. Scavenging battlefields from the final days of the Empire and the secret caches that a turn of the wind could uncover. And days of working under the revolting gaze of Unkar Plutt, fixing everything from clockwork mechanisms to guns to the grungy ships he somehow managed to acquire.

Days and days and days that left her feeling very ill-suited to stillness and introspection. The surest way to starve, or be killed - by the elements or another desperate soul - was to sit still and stop thinking.

Or, as Master Luke called it, _meditating_.

Once, when she had been attempting to run a new set of lines on a small sloop for Plutt, she had missed a step, sending her hurtling down towards the deck as the rope tangled around her. She had effectively been trapped with a noose around her neck in a full handstand until someone found her.

Removing the deadly threat made simply balancing on her hands rather mundane, much to Master Luke’s dismay, who seemed keen on this pose for some reason. Especially with the Force flowing through her body as easily as air flowed through her lungs. Pebbles, rocks, archaic carved plinths - they all floated at her will, freeing themselves from gravity as if she had helped them sprout invisible wings and the desire to test the limits of flight.

Master Luke had been _terrified_ when Rey relayed what she had managed to do when she had been captured by the First Order. It was difficult to describe how she had known she could convince the guard to release her. She simply had, in that moment, _known_ she could, so she did. It had been an instinct, an impulse that drew her to conclusion.

It had been the same with drawing on the Force when _he_ had her backed up against the chasm. She let go and reached out, and was rewarded with a surge of strength that bolstered her very soul, setting steel in her nerves, a rush of fire in her blood and a rushing courage that bit into the fear _he_ had set in her.

Knowing that she had unintentionally pushed her way into _his_ mind, however brief her touch had been, that _that_ was what had started it all? Well, that was what brought the strongest reaction from Master Luke. Somehow she didn’t think he knew just how much she could sense from him, and seeing how he had reacted to her questions thus far, she hesitated to ask him about it. Especially when she began to hear a voice somewhere beyond the back of her mind, in a void she had not even known existed. It never addressed her directly, and she never even managed to make out the words properly. But it was there.    

Master Luke insisted that patience was the first vital thing for her to learn before she could appreciate or be taught anything else.

How could she explain to him that was a lesson she’d mastered long ago?

Patience was four thousand, six hundred and fifty three tally marks etched into a wall.

She had been patient all of her life. Maz’s words flooded over her whenever she tried to still her mind.

_The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead._

She wanted to move ahead. She wanted to understand what this power she had was, and how to use it. She wanted to help her newfound friends.

That was another problem.

Attachment was something she was apparently supposed to eschew in order to better show compassion to all. But what good was power if it could not be used to protect the people you cared about? What worth did patience have if you waited too long?

The Jedi Code seemed determined to mock life as she had lived it. The world existed in a state of chaos, and it was only a lucky few who ever had the time, money and security to find harmony. The rules of the world had never been in her favour, so she had learned to play the game her own way.

Not one of the one hundred and seventy six marks hidden in the dirt beneath the thin mattress she slept on stood for a day that she felt had been fully utilised.

She tried to solve her problems herself, as always. Relying on others was risky at best. But her furtive attempts to take up the lightsaber that felt so wrong, yet so disturbingly _right_ in her hands had not been productive. She suspected Master Luke knew what she was doing, but chose not to remark upon it.

The lightsaber was such a strange weapon, and she had never seen another person wield one except for _him_. The tenacity, the sweeping blows flowing from one movement to the other in a beautiful cascade of ferocity clung in her memory with remarkable clarity. But she had no intention to _ever_ fight like _him_ , so the only example she had to use was effectively useless to her.

Her staff had been entirely different, it had more reach and most importantly - it was blunt. It wasn’t meant to actually kill anyone, only to protect her. The few swords she had handled - if curiously swinging a find before turning it over to Plutt for ever diminishing returns counted as handling - were all single handed steel blades built for a regular soldier, not a Jedi Knight...

Even if she had a better understanding of the technique, though, sparring a shadow could only do so much, especially when that shadow was a pale comparison to the real Specter she knew it represented.

And oh, how she _hated_ the part of her that remembered _his_ words so clearly.

_“I can show you the ways of the Force.”_

Why had _he_ made that offer? What about her had compelled him to want to teach her? She was no one.

Maybe those questions were better unasked, though, even of herself...

 

* * *

 

 

Rey gasped lightly as a glancing image of three distant ships flickered rudely in her mind, long before they would be visible on the calm sea that surrounded Ahch-To.

_“Leia.”_ Master Luke whispered, looking Rey right in the eyes, silently acknowledging that he had seen it too. She nodded, and they shared a moment of concern before they stood from another of their failed - well, she had failed - meditation sessions. Master Luke opened his hand, and Rey watched as the handle of a lightsaber she had never seen him carry came to him as if on a string. He belted it, before nodding his head at her in invitation. She mimicked the motion he had made and the feeling she had sensed off of him as best she could, and felt the cool metal slam into her hand a bit more harshly than she had meant.

Master Luke looked at her with a hint of _pride_. That was new.

“My sister is not alone - she was trying to warn us as best she could. Something is wrong or she would never have disturbed us here.”

Rey nodded. Master Luke took the lead, walking calmly towards the shallow cove that served as the best place to near the shore. Rey’s boat sat on the stones where she had turned it over, a scattering of moss beginning to cluster on the hull.

They waited together. Having a purpose to her stillness made all the difference for Rey: _this_ was not doing nothing.

She could feel Master Luke’s approval.

Time was lost on them as they sat in calmness together, and the sun slipped lower into the sky, peeking between the clouds for once to slash the quiet sea in violent shades of pinks and yellow.

Two ships slowly shimmered into view.

She looked at Master Luke, sharing in his wonder - they had seen _three_ ships.

Where was the third?

The _Millennium Falcon_ she knew instantly, as did Master Luke. The ship that tailed slightly behind her was not one Rey recognised, but as her eyes picked out the make of it, she knew it had to be a Republic ship of the line.

Each ship lowered a rowboat holding a few passengers when they reached the inlet of the cove. Rey didn’t know anyone in the rowboat launched from the Republic ship, but a grin bloomed on her face as the passengers from the _Falcon_ came close enough to see.

Leia, with _Finn_ at the oars, bringing them carefully to shore.

A nervous excitement fell off of Master Luke despite himself, seeing his sister for the first time in… actually Rey didn’t know how long. She had difficulty understanding how he had voluntarily stayed away from his family, his loving family that _missed_ _him_ , for so long. Perhaps that was because she only knew how it felt to be left behind, instead of being the person doing the leaving. She could never dream of leaving someone she cared about behind, and for a long time she had never even been able to dream of having someone she cared about aside from the imagined family that always held her to task as a beacon, a hope she doubted would ever fully light her way.

“Luke.” Leia’s face moved through sadness into comfort as she took him in, and they wrapped each other in a tight hug, forgetting the pressing situation for a moment of loving serenity.

“Rey!” Finn called, on the dead run up the rocky shoreline after securely stowing the oars. She beamed as Finn - alive, well and strong enough to lift her off her feet into a crushing hug.

“You’re still wearing Poe’s coat!”

He gave her a wholly smug grin, turning so she could see the intricate stitch work that had sewed the two halves of the coat back together where _he_ had slashed them apart, nearly killing Finn outright in the process.

“We both got mended and are doing better than ever.” He assured her.

“I hate to interrupt the touching reunions-”

“No, you don’t,” Leia spat at the new voice.

The Republic rowboat had made shore, and a pair of older men in ornate and flimsy robes had strode up to them. They were both edging towards old age if their greying hair could be trusted, but were aging in a way which belied their privileged lives. Straight backs, smooth skin and figures which strayed just behind the line of being plump.

The man who had spoken seemed to be in charge, sharing a terse glare with Leia before roving his eyes over her and Master Luke, not bothering to conceal that he found them both wanting.

“Greetings.” His veneer of civility was quite possibly as shallow as Unkar Plutt’s, which frankly was impressive in a disgusting sort of way. “I am Senator Ransolm Casterfo, and this is my fellow Senator Ansbert Clio.” The other man made a gesture of recognition.

Master Luke turned to Leia. “Was the New Republic Senate not destroyed, while in session, by the First Order?”

“Clio and I were profoundly lucky to have been absent from the session.” Casterfo answered. “At the time we regretted not being present to perform our duty to our constituents, but fate seems to have twisted in their favour as well as ours.”

No connection to the Force was needed to feel the anger roiling off Leia.

“And what do you want from myself and my pupil, Senators?” Master Luke asked calmly.

Casterfo raked his eyes over Rey again, and her skin crawled with the distinct desire to give him the chance to inspect her fist up close. “As the Princess-”

“That’s General to you.” Finn growled protectively.

Casterfo gave a put-upon sigh, shooting him a glare that indicated he was done indulging him with his patience. “In order to be a General, you need to have an army. Which I do believe, _Princess_ Leia is lacking at this juncture.”

“What happened?” Rey paled, looking between Finn and Leia.

“We were attacked at D’Qar. The First Order…they sent a massive force against us, with General Hux and the Knights of Ren leading it. We were blockaded - there was no way to escape and hardly a way to fight.” Leia had a lost quality as she explained.

“The General and Chewie managed to break through the blockade with as many of us as the _Falcon_ could hold,” Finn added quietly. “We launched the rest of our boats as fire ships, and it kept the blockade busy long enough for us to slip away. But a few days after we lost them we made the mistake of setting anchor to collect fresh water-”

“It was not a mistake, boy, it was a stroke of luck which allowed us,” Clio opened his hands to indicate himself and Casterfo, “to come upon you and inform you of the generous and diplomatic opportunity before us now.”

Leia and Rey both clenched their jaws at Clio’s chauvinistic jeer towards Finn.

“What is this ‘opportunity’ he speaks of, Leia?” Master Luke inquired.

“The First Order is calling for a summit,” Leia answered sharply. “They want the remaining representatives of the Senate to stand for the New Republic.” She jabbed a thumb to indicate the two toads in their robes. “As well as myself and the remaining Resistance leaders to attend.”

From the look that was exchanged between her and Luke, “ _they are demanding your presence, as well as Rey’s_ ” was as clear as if it had been shouted.

“I never wanted to bring them to you, Luke. I did what I could to keep you safe.”

He nodded compassionately at his sister, casting a wary glance at Rey.

The third ship. It had been one of the First Order’s. Leia must have negotiated that it at least not be lead straight to them.

Unsurprisingly, Casterfo interjected. “The Republic lost the vast majority of its fleet and the cream of its admittedly insubstantial army in the surprise attack on Hosnia.”

“Hold on, why would you have needed to have the best part of your army in your own capital?” Rey interjected.

Casterfo tensed but ignored her question. “The Resistance, if it ever was otherwise, is in tattered fragments. The First Order could annihilate us both if they wished, but they have offered peaceable negotiations.”

“They still intend to annihilate us, Senator. The only difference is they mean for our end to come from the mouths of their officers rather than the muzzles of their guns.”

“Oh, Princess. Ever the naysayer.” Leia appeared more than ready to join Rey in allowing Casterfo a closer examination of her fist, but chose to cut into him with words instead.

“I need to speak with my brother, _alone_ for a few moments. It has been a very long time since we last saw each other.”

Clio opened his mouth to protest, but Casterfo waved him off, confirming Rey’s suspicion he was the leader between them.

“Of course. We shall take a stroll to see more of this…lovely island.”

He thought the island was lovely the same way Rey thought he had a good, honest soul. 

The two men wandered away in no great haste, picking carefully over the rocky ground. Rey hadn’t noticed their thin soled sandals before, but relished in how the rocks must be digging into their feet. They motioned for the men who had rowed their boat to follow them, eventually making it out of unassisted earshot.

Rey shifted, unsure of whether she and Finn were meant to stay, but Leia began speaking immediately, her tone hushed.

“This reeks of a trap of some kind, Luke, but I am not entirely sure of how many other options we have left to us. There were a handful of other survivors from the Senate, but most conveniently _happened_ to be absent from the session when the attack took place.”

“They knew it was coming.”

She nodded before continuing. “Luke, the escort ship sent by the First Order is the _Upsilon_.”

Master Luke paled. Rey knew whose ship that was.

“I think we could escape if we managed to make it to the _Falcon_ together without arising suspicion, but we have nowhere to go, unless you know of somewhere safe. I don’t know how many others managed to get away from D’Qar, or if any of them did.”

Rey cast a glance at Finn. Neither of them had said anything about Poe.

“If the First Order captured any of the other Resistance leaders at D’Qar, do you think they would bring them to the summit?” Rey asked.

Luke and Leia considered the idea.

“It is possible - they seem to want to make a great show of this. I hate to admit it, but Casterfo is right about one thing: they could simply have marched into Coruscant if they wanted to now.”

“If we go to this circus of theirs, maybe you could get some of your people back, and then we can all go to ground, together?” Rey suggested timidly. “We do what they want us to, but not because we are giving in - because it offers us a chance to survive. As long as we have days to count, something could change, right?” She finished.

Finn’s face was etched in silent and skepticism, but Master Luke and Leia were considering her carefully.

“It is most likely a trap, but I would be a traitor to my own beliefs if I ignored a chance for diplomacy to succeed,” Luke conceded quietly. “We were always stronger when we were all together.” A look of sorrow passed between Leia and her brother.

They weren’t all together, though.

_Han_.

Leia and Luke finished the debate in silence, communicating wordlessly between each other in a way that confounded Rey. Reading someone like that was not something she had ever seen.

Master Luke offered her his arm and the two of them walked towards the rowboat.

“Rey, there is a pack by my bed. Would you and Finn please go and retrieve it? Along with anything else you wish to take.”

Rey nodded, gesturing to Finn.

Had Master Luke been waiting for this? Was that why he was ready?

Luke and Leia’s voices murmured in the distance, but she could still feel traces of desperation and dread even as she and Finn hiked the steep stairs and lost sight of them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, BB-8 is going by "Bates" mostly because I cannot think of a clever reason to justify the use of droid designations as pet names. Especially since there is Millicent, who will definitely be appearing later.
> 
> Secondly, I was asked to quickly give a timeline for the fic thus far, since I do jump POV and location quite a bit. That stops largely now that I have everyone in the same place...  
> Ch1: The "Freedom Men" consolidate control on the girl's village over the course of four weeks following the end of TFA. Caeda Ren & the First Guards retake it six weeks after the end of TFA.  
> Ch2: Implying a larger military campaign (that I definitely would have loved to include, but that would have taken a lot of time and this is already slow burning...) the fall of D'Qar occurs approximately five months after TFA.  
> \- A key note here is the line that indicates the Resistance lost half of it's X-Wings in the attack on Starkiller. They might have survived to fight another day but that would be a crippling loss to an underfunded, technologically dated and largely volunteer military organisation. In addition to their detriment, their base of operations is now known to the First Order. The New Republic was also effectively knocked out militarily with the loss of their fleet and the vast majority of their leadership in the Hosnian attack. The loss of Starkiller is painful, but the First Order did not lose any significant leaders and is implied to have a fairly strong reserve of men and resources. I believe they would be able to regroup quickly.  
> Ch3: Rey ruminates on her entire experience with Luke. Leia arrives on her 167th day, or just under six months after TFA.

The _Falcon_ eased on steady winds towards a small island off of Coruscant’s southern coast. Finn had never heard of the island, but then he’d never heard of so many of the places he had recently been swept off to.

The tiny harbour was comically dwarfed by the number of ships attempting to dock in it. Importance was clearly established by how far away the vessels were from the main docks. There were a handful of decrepit Republic ships that ought to have been removed from service years ago - all that was left of their navy, Finn assumed. The number of official Republic vessels was dwarfed by ships flying the flags of anyone who was anyone in the Republic - trade companies, guilds, banking conglomerates, individual persons of fame, name or fortune. And, of course, there was also what Finn knew to be the heart of the First Order fleet. The _Finalizer_ took pride of place, with the _Upsilon_ floating right next to it.

Somewhat to Finn’s surprise, a space was open not far away, and the _Falcon_ was directed to make port there.

The General stepped out of the Captain’s cabin, carrying herself with a sort of pride that seemed out of place at what Finn considered to be a complete sham. Her uniform was resplendent, and her brother wore his Jedi robes at her side.

Finn and the ragtag group of Resistance members gathered by the rail of the _Falcon_ , watching Rey, Chewie, and the Skywalkers go.

But Leia called out to them.

“They wanted the Resistance leaders here, didn’t they? Well, come on then. We all are leaders of what we believe in.” And she motioned for them to follow.

Every soul left the ship, buoyed on their feet by Leia’s words.

A colossal marble complex stood in the exact middle of the island, its center spanned by a massive domed ceiling, with a long arched hallway leading into it from each of the cardinal directions. The General continued their march straight through the north gate, not stopping to even look at the cluster of people who were watching with curiosity.

Their procession was only halted when it was intentionally blocked by General Hux and an entourage of First Order officers partway down the hall.

“General Organa.” Hux was terse but what might almost be considered respectful, snapping his fingers. The wall of First Order officers behind him parted, and _Poe_ , as well as Admiral Akbar and others Finn knew by face, but not by name, were shoved forward by Stormtroopers.

Finn’s heart soared - Poe was alive! The remains of his uniform was tattered, and his beard was more overgrown than Finn had seen it before, but aside from denying him a razor - which Finn couldn’t exactly count against them, but he had a long enough list of their offences already - he looked to be in good health. Finn surveyed the others quickly. They seemed to be in a similar state.

“A gesture of our good faith.” Hux said with pursed lips, and the hand the Stormtroopers had on their respective prisoners was lifted. Hux nodded and swept off, hands behind his back with his officers trailing him.

The Resistance prisoners flocked with relief to the General and Luke’s side, some casting awed or surprised glances over the Jedi. Poe stretched, rolling his shoulders while looking happily between the General, Finn and Rey.

“I missed you, my friend.” Finn grinned. Poe beamed at him, before nearly being bowled over as Bates dashed towards him, tripping over his stubby legs in excitement and rolling into his master.

“Oh, of course I missed you, too.” Poe dropped to his knees, ruffling the dog’s fur with enthusiasm. Rey laughed warmly as Bates licked every inch of Poe’s face.

“Poe, _thank you_.” General Organa laid a hand on his shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze before resuming her lead of them down the hall, former prisoners proudly in tow.

An older man who looked so frail Finn was concerned he might actually fall apart motioned to a page as Leia entered the domed room. The page in turn indicated for them to follow him, as he brought them to a section of benches in the circular room. He shot Bates a disapproving glare, but said nothing.

Finn and Poe stood at the bottom, allowing those of higher ranks to trickle into the front rows. Rey stood with them, waiting, but Poe gave her a smirk and tilted his head at Luke, who was waiting for her expectedly. She almost blushed, looking uncomfortable, but took her seat in the front.

Finn observed the others slowly filing in. Ransolm Casterfo and a handful of other men in Senators robes had occupied a different section of benches, not needing more than one row of the seats for their tiny group. The others from the Republic were buzzing in the gallery around the main chamber, present to observe but not actually involved.

Across the room, General Hux and Major-General Phasma featured prominently at the head of the First Order’s delegation. Still standing in front of the group, towering over the other officers scrambling cautiously past him to the back benches, was Kylo Ren. He wasn’t alone, either.

Poe followed Finn’s gaze, scowling as it landed on the pair of Knights.

“The second black freak. He was at D’Qar. He killed Jessika Pava.”

Finn reeled in the loss, not having known her for more than a few conversations, but remembering how she had popped by the makeshift infirmary to visit him once when Poe had to leave D’Qar on a raid for a few days.

“Who is he, anyway?”

Poe took in the second Knight, instantly recognizable to him. “That’s Caeda Ren. Troopers usually call him the Silent Knight, though. Knight of Ren, but also commander of the First Guards, an elite company that can fight as heavy cavalry or infantry. They have quite a reputation, and the laurels to back it up. You should see their colours, not much room left for more honours to be added. Apart from a few officers, they _never_ speak. They all use hand signs as a language.”

“They are something.” Poe conceded bitterly, glaring at Caeda Ren with as much loathing as Kylo Ren - which was quite an impressive display.

The tiny, wobbling older man that had ordered the pages around was creeping his way towards a high set seat, leaning heavily on a cane. It was a marvel he made it up the stairs.

The ambient buzz died down, the few people who were still standing quickly finding a seat as the man took up a gavel and pounded it off the desk in front of him. Finn restrained a chuckle as Bates settled quietly between Poe’s feet, entirely unwilling to be parted from his master again so soon.

“I call you all to order.” He almost squeaked. Where had they found him? Finn wondered if he was going to last for however long this thing went.

“This summit shall be subject to the rules of Parliamentary Procedure as in the Republic Senate. I, Vandar Voolm, shall act as your Chair and moderator.”

There was a pause as Voolm drooped slightly over the table before catching himself, jerking upright. “As the party which has requested this summit, I give the floor to the representatives of the First Order.”

Finn expected some manner of opening remarks, or... well, _something_. He had never been around for much of the talking that resulted in decisions, but in his head people tended to quibble and mince words and argue more than they got anything done at these kind of meetings.

General Hux did not seem to intend to expend any time that was not strictly necessary.

“The First Order has called these leaders, with witnesses present, to accept the unconditional surrender of your respective parties.” There was a wave of shock that rolled through the Resistance bench, all jarred as Finn by how direct Hux was.

“With this surrender, we may all work in conjunction to usher in a new age of peace and order. The Republic will join the First Order territories in creating the New Imperium. The Senate will be reorganised so as to better reflect this new and grand entity it represents. General Leia Organa shall be given her former seat in the Senate as a gesture of cooperation and in recognition of her past services. However, owing to the vast majority of the Senate seats currently standing vacant-”

“Because you lot murdered all the Senators!” Someone in front of Finn shouted, but Hux continued, deaf to the accusation and the banging of Voolm’s gavel.

“There shall be a Chancellor invested with emergency powers until the new Senate can be organised, at which time the situation will be reevaluated and elections may take place. The Chancellor shall be chosen from the remaining Senators, as they represent the will of the people. The Chancellor shall be supported by a pair of Consuls, selected from the First Order’s officials. These Consuls shall for the time take up the burden of governing directly, with the assistance of further appointed local officials - to be agreed upon at a later date - in order to maintain efficiency and order during this period of intense transition.”

“Which translates to: Casterfo or one of his cronies will be a puppet Chancellor, while the First Order goons hold all of the real power,” Poe grumbled.

“To this end, the armies and navies of the First Order, which shall become the official military of the New Imperium, shall move to garrison all territories until peace is firmly established.”

“We will occupy your homes to make sure you behave,” Poe continued to convert beside him while another tense ripple rolled through the benches.

“And finally…”

“He wasn’t done?” Finn muttered bitterly, receiving an agreeing sigh from Poe.

“As a symbolic gesture to the people of the New Imperium, the girl known as ‘Rey’ shall marry Lord Kylo Ren, Marquis of Ren and Master of the Knights of Ren.”

The tension snapped with a roar as the room erupted.

Protest was launched from almost every Resistance member present - Finn chiefly among them. The red headed bastard continued, unaffected and unsurprised by the outburst or Voolm’s weak attempt to control the room.

“These two individuals represent two ancient and powerful traditions, two facets of a single and greater whole which need not oppose one another. With their joining, cooperation will be inspired and the sincerity of our greater union will be recognized.”

“You mean our capitulation will be cemented!”

“Because you took our greatest weapon away!”

“And made her your pawn!”

Finn raged with the others, taking no notice of the words surging from his mouth, but found one rather important voice absent.

Rey was silent, frozen in place while she stared directly at Kylo Ren across the room. The damn masked helmet hid his face, but Finn had no doubt that he was meeting her gaze. Their stillness, their single focus on one another – anyone looking at them could believe they heard nothing of the din around them, their focus and intent devoted solely to an inaudible challenge.

“Perhaps a recess, for us all to digest this… very comprehensive proposition?” Ransolm Casterfo’s voice called out over the clamoring.

Voolm appeared to agree, striking his gavel.

“The summit shall resume in an hour hence.” His willowy voice wailed.

“Rey…” Finn looked down to where she had been, only to find her gone.

“Rey!” Poe shouted after her, as they watched her dart from the door. They shared a look before going after her together, trying to push through the crowd. Bates barked at people, snapping at their heels and helping to clear a path.

They had to find her.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey knew they were looking for her.

Finn, Poe, and even Master Luke. Their presence and fear danced through her senses.

But _he_ stood out most of all in her mind. A black specter on the edge of her consciousness, and he wasn’t even trying to place himself there. The mere idea of him chased her as she ran blindly down the hallway and out into the small town surrounding it.

Memories of trees and the stillness of Takodana snapped at her, dread twisting itself as a cold vice around her spine as she was hunted all over again, though this time it was nothing more than her imagination that pursued her.

Finally finding a dead end street, and not able to summon the strength to leap the weatherbeaten fence that sealed it, she collapsed into the corner, sitting with her knees tight to her chest. She pulled into herself, trying to be as quiet and small as possible, for once hoping that no one was coming for her, that she would be left alone.

A part of her surged with questions, of why and how and what they could possibly want with _her_ \- a nobody who had spent most of her life on the far periphery of the Republic. A desert rat. A scavenger with no last name and no family.

But a quieter part of her knew the answer.

She was a wild card, and one nobody had even known was in the deck to be drawn. If they couldn’t use her, they had to at least prevent someone else from doing so.

How better to do that than by chaining her to one of the few keepers that had a chance of putting her down if it came to that?

_Our greatest weapon_ , she thought darkly.

Was that really how they saw her? Was that why they had cheered when the _Falcon_ had set out to Ahch-to? Because they saw their new weapon leaving to be honed into something even more dangerous?

She had never really meant to join the Resistance - in fact she never actually _had_. She trusted Leia, and Finn and Poe, and she did not agree with what she had seen the First Order doing. She didn’t really know anything about the New Republic, but if men like Casterfo and Clio were Senators, that certainly did nothing to win her respect.

Yet here they all were, bickering over the future of millions of people and somehow all had come to see her as something valuable to be haggled over. Maybe it was ironic: the scavenger scum from the desert turning out to be the most valuable find of all.

She had been alone for so long, and then Finn had quite literally crashed into her life. She had found people who cared about her and that she wanted to protect. That was all she wanted to do, what she had wanted Master Luke to help her to understand - how could she protect the people she cared about?

Of course it would be Leia who eventually found her. She said nothing, quietly approaching Rey and sitting next to her against the wall. She offered no pretext or wasted words, delving right into the heart of the matter.

“I asked Han to bring our son home and it killed him. It would be ridiculous to sacrifice you in the vain hope you could lure him back somehow. Besides, if we agree to the rest of these terms it doesn’t matter if I still have a son, because there will be no home left for him to return to.”

Rey shook her head. There was so much she didn’t understand, but she knew that this was much bigger than that. “This is not about your son, there a lot of other people that need to be brought home. People that _want_ to be saved.” She swallowed deeply. “Casterfo may be a corrupt coward, but he is right about one thing. We cannot openly fight them, not like this.”

It wouldn’t have mattered if Master Luke had spent those one hundred and seventy six days honing her into the keenest edge for the Resistance. She would not have won this war for them alone. That was not the way they could turn this around.

She was not a weapon.

Leia squared her shoulders, looking the General even seated against a wall in a deadened alleyway. “I have spent my entire life fighting on losing odds, Rey. I’m not about to give up now.”

They were both fighters. “I’d never ask you to.”

Leia was interested now, narrowing her eyes and waiting for Rey to continue.

The words came flying from her mouth before they could even fully nest inside of her mind, the picture taking form only as she spoke it aloud. “We agree to this. We simper and look like cowards and people will hate us, think we betrayed everything you stand for, but we _survive_. Even though everyone will think we are powerless, they will be wrong. The First Order will have invited the lions into their homes, not put them into cages.”

“And how do we ever win? How do we come back from this? After everything that has happened...” Leia was lost to a memory, to a lifetime of memories, Rey suspected. Decades of silent struggles and raging battles fought against former allies and family, losing friends and loved ones and everything else in between.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “I don’t think I even know what winning looks like. I never was able to imagine a future where things were better, but I always kept fighting anyway. Going day by day by day. Because you never know when something will change, when you have your chance. But we have to be able to keep going to ever get that chance.”

The marks on the wall always grew in number; they were proof, proof of living as much as of waiting. Each stood for a day that had failed to claim her and for the chance to make another mark when the moon rose again.

“Luke would never agree to this.”

Rey shook her head. She was not a piece to be used in someone else’s game of power, no matter how noble their intentions might be. “It isn’t up to Master Luke. You and I are the ones they want under their thumb.” She hesitated. “I don’t know much about the Senate, and I don’t know what they would want from you,” she admitted.

Leia waved the concern off. “Rey, by the time I was your age I was already a Senator and a spy for the Rebellion. I practically teethed on political intrigue.” She grinned briefly before her expression darkened. “But you, Rey, you’d have to…” She trailed off long enough for Rey’s mind to catch up to the more subtle implication.

She saw herself as a prisoner in this situation. Leia saw her as a _wife_. Those meant very different things, at least in one _particular_ regard.

_No_ , she shook her head sharply, not at Leia, but in order to disturb where that thought lead and to shake the memory that darted forward from some locked part of her mind. _His_ face, not hiding behind the mask the way he did as the specter that haunted her, but bare for her to see. His mouth set in a crooked quirk that softened dark eyes, almost as a smile might. Hair falling on its own accord to frame the sharp angles of his face. Body set into a relaxed posture. It was all a challenge. All daring her to call him a monster, a creature in a mask… Or even worse, consider him as something else, even for a moment.

It wasn’t something that bared thinking about – was not something she _could_ think about.

Leia caught her eyes again. “You would be trapped with him, bound to him.”

That was not entirely true, though.

She was not an object for someone else to possess.

“Which means he will also be trapped with _me_.”

She was not a pawn.

“I will handle _Kylo Ren_.”

 

* * *

 

 

Poe was steering Finn by the shoulder, guiding him reluctantly back towards the domed chamber. Bates trod along with them dejectedly.

“The hour is almost up - if something goes wrong in there, they will need us.” Poe reasoned softly to him again, running a hand through his rough beard.

They took their seats, sharing a look at the empty front of their bench. General Organa, Luke and Rey were all still gone. That could be a good thing though, right? Maybe Luke had found her and taken her away from this place. From _them_.

Voolm was calling the room back to order, and still they were nowhere in sight.

There seemed to be some confusion on how to proceed. General Hux whispered to one of his lapdogs, who quick marched towards the closest exit.

“That’s not good,” Poe murmured beside him. Resistance members were restlessly shifting all around them, some rising to their feet. A handful of First Order backbenchers jumped up in response, only to be yelled at by Phasma.

The mounting pressure snapped as the north door crashed open. All eyes were turned to General Organa, who strode in not as a defeated leader, but as a woman who still had a great deal of fight left in her. Rey followed in her wake, almost pulled by the General’s gravity.

Kylo Ren nearly jumped to his feet, halfway to standing before he caught himself and shifted almost awkwardly.

“General Hux,” General Organa fixed Hux with a glare that even he seemed to want to shirk away from. “I cannot speak for the delegates of the Republic. However, in my capacity as the leader of the Resistance, we are willing to accept the proposed agreement in principle, pending our satisfaction on the further clarification of a few items.”

Hux rose and opened his mouth, undoubtedly to remind them what “unconditional surrender” meant, but Kylo Ren cut him off, silencing Hux with a gesture.

“Very well. I am glad that we can all agree on this.”

Hux was furious. General Organa was drawn and pale at being addressed by her traitorous bastard of a son. The Resistance members seemed ready to riot. Finn just felt sick.

Rey? She was etched in such tightly strung stoicism that he was afraid she would shatter under her own weight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom! Here we go for real now! Thank you for your kind words, kudos and patience with me so far. I promise that 12,000 words later we will finally have Kylo Ren and Rey interacting in the next chapter. Huzzah!


	5. Chapter 5

They dressed her like she was some Jedi Knight from the old legends.  The robe almost burned her, as if it knew that it was draped over a liar, a pariah.  With the way the lightsaber had called to her, it was hard to tell if her reaction to the robe was purely imagined or not.  Was it a relic, too?  Had it once belonged to some scion of the mighty order?  She dreaded to think of the shame and horror if Master Luke had stayed to see this, rather than disappearing from the summit.

_He_ knew she was no Jedi, probably even better than she knew it herself.  But how could that lie possibly matter compared to the even larger one they were spinning with this ridiculous ceremony?

A joining of not only two persons, but two facets of a greater whole?

A symbol of the strength in union?

Proof that differing ideals do not divide a people meant to be together?

She barely heard most of what was being said.  They were lies, layered into a chain of pretty words that tightened around her neck the longer she stood there.  Neither of them were asked to say anything, their mere presence tantamount to their consent.

They probably didn’t trust her to speak.  Which was wise.  She didn’t trust herself to speak at that moment.  She stood by what she had said to Leia - she would see this through.  She could be strong enough.  It was the only way.  She would protect those she cared about, try to help them, to save them.

Her ears pricked as the officiator continued.

“While they be joined together irrevocably until death, their union will usher in a peace that shall stand for a thousand years and more once they are gone.”

The notion of being irrevocably joined until death took on a very different tone when it was probable they would kill each other given half a chance.

_He_ made a quiet noise in the back of his throat and Rey started.  The officiator was looking at her expectedly.  _He_ had his arm outstretched, and the officiator had a length of material in his hands.

“Oh…” she half muttered, raising her arm as well.  The officiator took their hands, turning them sideways and bringing their palms against each other.

Not one above the other.  Rey almost laughed at the pageantry.

Then the officiator wrapped their hands in the material.  Such a delicate looking fetter they bound her with, nothing more than a slip of richly embroidered silk, but its hold was stronger than any chain.  Rey felt a slight tremor pass through her, and damn it - _he_ felt it from where his gloved hand was now tied to hers.

A feeling of calm rolled off him.  But he wasn’t needling it into her in an attempt to control what she was feeling.  He was offering the reassurance for her to take if she wanted it.

She didn’t.

She had more than enough lies to stomach today, and she did not want false comfort. 

Not from him.

 

* * *

 

 

Unkar Plutt had never seen much value in books, so Rey had always kept the ones she found.  Sometimes it took days to dry them out carefully if she found them washed up on the beach, but they were worth it.  Better yet were the ones generous traders had given her, many intrigued by her curiosity in their homelands.  Words had provided Rey with a different kind of sustenance.  She devoured them, finding that they gave her a fuller heart and head if not a fuller belly.

Never had she actually believed the words in one book though - a table that “groaned under the weight” of a meal laid on it. How could there be enough food to make wood complain at the burden? 

As she was ushered along with _him_ into the great hall after the ceremony, she discovered she had been wrong to doubt. 

The varnished tables were indeed complaining - Rey could almost feel it.  They were laden with fish and meats and vegetables and breads and cheeses and things she had no idea how to describe.

The smells were almost too much for her, sending a haze through her and turning her stomach from nausea, not hunger.

_He_ looked down at her, catching some sense of her discomfort.  His fingers flexed slightly where they were still tied as they continued their march to the head table, but she pulled away into the tiny space available to her, and he let her go.

The binding came off when they were seated in the middle of the head table, and she relished the tiny rush of freedom.  He watched her flex her fingers, leaving his hand idly on the table next to her.

More pretty lies came in the form of speeches, but the worse crime was listening to them instead of eating the food before it went cold.  The blatant waste irritated her.

An odd phrase caught her notice as Casterfo continued his sermon.

“I come from an ‘old and noble heritage?’  What does that even mean?” she muttered, not expecting an answer.

_He_ quirked his head at her.  “It means whatever someone wants it to,” he said simply. “There is no lie in it.  In the absence of information people create their own truth.  They might think you are a daughter of Skywalker,” he sneered, “or believe you are the daughter of some lost child from the old legends - Kenobi, Jinn.  It doesn’t matter.  They give you power no matter what they think; you will have been seeded in their imagination, and they will construct your own myth for you.”

“What do you believe?”  It came out as a challenge.  Why was she asking for his opinion?  He appeared as surprised as she did by the question, taking a moment to answer.

“I believe that you are yourself.  Incredibly powerful and impressive in your own right.  I don’t care who your family might have been.  Where we come from does not matter if we do not want it to.  You are you.  That is all that matters to me.”  He settled into his seat, eyes turning away from her until the speeches finally ended and the feasting began.  _He_ couldn’t eat with the mask on and seemed to have no intention to take it off.  It offered her a spark of satisfaction that he had to forego his own wedding banquet in order to hide his face.

She could barely find an appetite herself, though.  Pecking at a few of the more simple dishes before giving up.

“Would you like to leave?” he asked her.

Being completely honest, she had not exactly accounted for having to make this decision.  She certainly wanted to escape the mobs of eyes that seemed permanently glued to her since the ceremony began.  But she also had no desire to rush off to whatever else he might have planned for the night.

They had let her wear her lightsaber.  They had _insisted,_ in fact.  It surprised her at first.  But now she understood.  Showing off their newly tamed lioness would make for poor sport if she was devoid of her teeth. 

So she was armed, and could - in theory, at least - chase him off.  But coming to blows on the first night of this…whatever it was - was probably not in her best interests.

But there was another question, a vital piece to the game - what did _he_ expect from this?  Did he think of her as his wife or his prisoner?  Would there be a difference?  There were so many - much more conventional - marriages that Rey had seen which were a disquieting, even frightening blend of both.

A tremble shook her hands, which she tried to hide under the table without making their retreat obvious.  It was useless with him watching her, though.  He gestured to a Stormtrooper stationed behind their table, who made his way into the crowd.  To her utter shock, he returned with Finn and a happily clean shaven Poe.

“Senator Organa,” _he_ almost hesitated over the name, as if it pained him to run his tongue over the words, “requested that these two be appointed members of your new staff.  I do believe they are officially on the roster as your coachman and footman, which certainly pay better than disgraced hussar devoid of commission and traitorous errand boy,” he finished with a slight hint of amusement mingled with annoyance.  “Coachman, we have need of your services.  I believe my Lady Ren would prefer to leave.”

Rey’s stomach flipped, though she was unsure why her heart jumped into her throat: the title, or being referred to as _his_ in some way.

Finn shot _him_ a sideways glance of loathing.  Poe took a different tactic, ignoring _him_ entirely instead and sweeping into a perfect bow towards Rey, cavalier grace emanating in his voice.  “I am always happy to be of any assistance to my Lady.  Finn and I are at your service, always.”

How they managed to slip away without much fanfare, she couldn’t say.  Using a side door and being escorted by a group of Stormtroopers likely helped.

An open carriage was waiting on the street, another pair of Stormtroopers holding the horses while a cluster of what Rey knew to be the First Guards sat quietly on their grey mounts. 

An escort.  How kind.

_He_ offered her a hand as she approached the carriage, which she of course ignored, taking the step unassisted.  _He_ sighed and followed her, sitting across from her rather than beside her, lounging against the seat in a carelessly elegant way.  A Trooper hopped up onto one of the horses as a postilion while Finn took a seat beside Poe.

“Don’t trust me to get you both back in one piece?” Poe shot at _him_.

“I’ve seen you nearly drive over the edge of a cliff and go rolling down it in the process.  I have every intention of waking up in a bed tomorrow, not alone in a sand dune.”

He might have the bed, but was still going to be alone in the morning if Rey had anything to say about it.

“It was dark, we didn’t know where we were going, and we had people shooting at us.  We still got away,” Finn muttered indignantly.

Poe clucked, snapping the reins lightly and the horses walked on.  The carriage rolled smoothly over the cobbled streets, winding its way towards the newly renamed Central Palace of the Imperium.  As Rey understood it had been the Imperial Palace, and the _Jedi Temple_ before that. 

She could see the stars dusting the sky, freckling the darkness with tiny points of light.  They were so different from the ones she had grown up watching.  That familiar path of stars she could wander, weaving a trail of light against the nights when sleep eluded her - it was gone.  The way was lost to her – left in a faraway place along with the few scattered remnants that proved she had once been just Rey, a scavenger ebbing out a living on the far edges of the world.  No friends to speak of.  No power worth coveting.  No one to care about except herself.  And certainly no thought of ever being called _Lady_ anything.

_He_ watched her quietly the entire time.  Observing her, studying her.

The carriage passed through the wide open gates of the curtain walls, finally coming to a halt in front of the grand main entrance to the Palace.  Poe gallantly offered her a hand down, and she graciously took it.  She wouldn’t miss an opportunity to spite her constant observer.

_He_ took the lead, allowing Rey and her friends to trail quietly behind him through the Palace.  At first she wondered whether he was trying to get them lost, perhaps because he’d changed his mind about her constant companions.  Yet she discovered that the building really _was_ that vast and complicated.  Down hallways, up rounded staircases, through an atrium full of mirrors, until eventually he opened a massive set of double oak doors, revealing a set of stairs that led to a large, diamond shaped courtyard that was set with great flagstones and partially covered in grass.  A terrace supported by pillars ringed the edges of the yard, and   potted greenery speckled with flowers of all colours hung off the low walls.  She could hear water trickling, and following the sound she found a fountain in one of the corners. 

_He_ pointed towards the far corner opposite the fountain.

“This is the Western Annex and has been given over for your use.  Your staff will find rooms prepared for them through that door.  Any personal effects will be brought up tomorrow.”

_After they have been properly searched tonight,_ Rey thought wryly.

Poe and Finn’s dismissal was evident from his gestures, but neither moved from where they stood.

_He_ loomed over them, and she could feel the slip in his calm veneer the longer they stayed.  _Good_ \- he should share in the discomfort of the day.  Letting her keep her friends close was a mistake on their part: more lions in the house instead of in cages.

His facade slipped further, physically betraying his annoyance as his graceful stillness gave way to fidgeting.

“That will be all,” he finally dismissed.  Finn and Poe’s eyes fell to Rey, though, only striding away when she gave a slight nod of approval.

_He_ gestured for her to follow him further, leading her straight across the courtyard.  She could see another set of stairs, leading down to a shorter hallway with a single door on either side and a balcony at the end.  She idly traced the lightsaber resting on her left hip as they came to the stairs, knowing the gesture had not escaped his notice.

“I don’t want to fight you.  We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”  The concession was clear, but his offer was also apparent.  _He_ actually chuckled under the mask, watching her understand his words.  “I would also like us both to wake up in one piece tomorrow.”

“What am I supposed to call you?” she blurted out suddenly, staving off thinking about his comfort and lack of reservations.  He seemed unsure of her question, allowing her to continue.  “Most people I have heard talking to you, or about you, call you Ren.”

He nodded.

“But there are other Knights of Ren, aren’t there?”

“There are thirteen of us, currently.”

“Wouldn’t that be confusing then?”

“Calling me Ren is referring to me by my title.  I am the Marquis of Ren and Master of the Knights of Ren.  Other Knights are referred to by the name they are given upon induction to the order, or more formally with that name followed by Ren.”

“If you are a Marquis, then is Ren a real place?”

He was almost glowing with a thrill at her curiosity, relishing her questions.  His pleasure irked her, but his readiness to give her answers was welcome.  She was scavenging for information, that was all, and he was giving it to her.

“In a manner of speaking.  It certainly isn’t an estate in the way you would expect of a peer in the Republic.  Ren is the site of an ancient temple with a powerful connection to the Dark Side of the Force.” 

She recoiled slightly, shuddering instantly as the words flowed from his mouth.

“It serves as the official base for the Knights of Ren, though few of us spend time there owing to our rather active service for the Supreme Leader.  Ren acts more as a symbol of our heritage than anything else.”

“You mean your heritage of betrayal and murder?” She grit out without thinking.

She could hear him hiss under his mask, before his hands came up to the clasps, making to remove it.

“Don’t bother,” she spat.

“Why not?”  His voice was tense, teeth cutting on the short words.

“Your pretty face doesn’t change what you are.”  The chill to her anger surprised her.

Ren roared, fists clenching.  His body vibrated with a nervous energy that seemed to make him grow taller, but his rage only made him vulnerable to her:  she had control of his feelings in this moment.  “Just stop.  You aren’t scaring anyone here.”

His fist lashed out, sending one of the beautiful potted plants flying.  The ceramic shattered with a resounding crash, sending dirt skidding across the stones.

“Was that really necessary?”  The coolness was ebbing away, heat rising in her chest as she angrily surveyed the waste.  “Do you feel better for having ruined something beautiful?”

“Would you care if I did?  Wouldn’t that be fitting for your monster – your creature in a mask? Deriving pleasure in ruining beautiful things?”

“Yes,” she took a moment, inhaling a steadying breath before continuing.  “It would be fitting.”

He stalked a few steps to her right, almost turning away before rounding on her.  “Remind me, Scavenger – which of us slashed a blade across what you call a “pretty face” when last we met?  Did _you_ enjoy it?”

“Out!”  She roared, jabbing a finger at the door to the Annex.

She braced for his retaliation, but her fury seemed to change something in him.  He turned, cloak swishing as he strode out.  Boots stomping with every step.  He thrust his hand out, flattening the doors to the courtyard open.

“Rey?”

It was Finn.  He and Poe popped out from behind the far pillars, near the entry to the hallway with their rooms.  Each holding a _pistol_.

“We had you covered,” Poe assured her.

“How did you get those?” she hissed in a whisper, shooing them back into their hallway.

“The General is ever resourceful,” Poe told her with a conspiratorial wink.  “We got door duty tonight, Rey.  You need to get some sleep - you’ve been through a lot.”

Finn took the lead down the hallway, finding the door on the right already open a touch.  He motioned her towards it, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder as she slipped inside.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your continued comments and kudos!! I am thrilled that people are enjoying this. As always, huge thanks to DVeleniet, she who is not afraid to drag my shy self back to problems I try to run away from or dismiss.
> 
> My apologies for the mix up in chapter numbers, hopefully I have fixed the problem. I apparently had a draft saved which is what screwed up the chapter count.


	6. Chapter 6

Any memories of waking eluded Rey, slipping away on the edge of a forgotten dream.  The Force was at her will without a call, without any kind of conscious thought.  Only the creaking of the door, opening to admit a person who was unknown and unexpected stood out in her mind even briefly.

Confusion and fear tangibly leaked from the maid who Rey held in a power the small woman could not see.  The emotions shattered as cool fragments into Rey, and she let the maid go almost too harshly, arrested position dropping so quickly the woman nearly fell over.  That had been reckless, thoughtless.  The maid’s reaction spurred the guilt that formed as Rey’s mind caught up with what had just happened. 

Sleep had proven elusive at best.  The light doze on the too soft, too lavish bed had only come after hours of pacing around the room, examining the confines and contents as if it really was a cell she had found herself in.  The maid’s confusion took a turn as she scanned the room, features chasing into a scowl as she appraised the messy reconfiguration of the furniture. 

The huge bed had been set in the center of the long wall that faced a massive bay window overlooking the sea.  Rey felt immediately vulnerable in it.  It was exposed to the window,   she couldn’t see the door well, and it was too open on all sides.  So she moved it.  Lifting the vanity out of the way so that the bed could be wedged into a corner, giving her two solid walls and a vantage of the door.

No doubt seeing that Rey had somehow moved a several hundred pound solid oak bed frame left more than a few questions in the maid’s mind.

“I’m Tess, m’Lady, part of your new staff,” she managed after they spent a few moments of mutually terse silence, Rey trying to calm herself following the spike of fear that had followed the unexpected intrusion, as well as the unease that came after.

“I’m Rey,” she introduced lamely.

Tess frowned thickly in response.  “I am to help you dress.  General Hux will be arriving to speak with you shortly.”

“I don’t need help.”  Tess did not bother to argue, dropping a poor curtsey and scampering out of the room in a way that made the guilt pang against Rey once again for having lashed out at her.

She ignored the closet, having discovered it contained nothing but the darkest shades of grey and varying textures of black in her sleepless inquisition of the room.  Something would have to be done with that.  She padded into the expansive room attached to her suite, which held a great stone basin set into the floor she assumed was meant for bathing.  Miraculously, it had taps that actually gargled with water when they were turned.  She cupped her hands while kneeling over the edge, taking enough to splash over her face.

Leaving the robe, unwilling to feel its weighing of her unworthiness again, she shifted back into the rest of the mummer's costume they had given her for the wedding, feeling comfort in the practicality of it.  Placing her lightsaber where it could easily be seen, she stepped out to face the day.  Finn greeted her, still standing guard all these hours later.

“We took shifts after the first hour or so,” he told her warmly, allaying her concern.

“Guys, we got company,” Poe called from the top of the steps.  Finn concealed the pistol behind his back under Poe’s jacket before they moved to greet their visitor.

Hux’s perfect posture bothered her.  Not for any logical reason; she just could not believe any human being would put that much effort into simply standing straight.

“Lady Ren,” he greeted curtly, lips protesting over her newfound title.  He motioned crisply to the woman beside him, who stood in stark contrast. 

She was a touch taller than Rey, and unlike Hux, held herself in dignity without rigidity.  Her body was protected in the white plate armour of the First Guards, plumed helmet under one arm, and her other arm tucked behind her back.  Her long, dirty blonde hair swept into a messily braided bun at the back of her head.  A twisting pattern of red lines traced along the right side of her face, starting under her blue eyes and tapering off by her chin.  The contrast between colours was stark, but the lines were oddly beautiful.

“This is Major Alexandra Cassel of the First Guards.  She is the regiment’s commander when it is not under the direct control of Caeda Ren.  She will be in charge of your personal protection while you are in Coruscant for the time being.  A rotating platoon of the First Guards garrisoned here will be acting as your personal detail.”

_You mean my prison guards_ , Rey thought bitterly, hiding it behind a passive acknowledgement.

“If you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.  I assume the Major to be capable of any further introduction required,” Hux said dismissively, giving Cassel a sour once over as he turned to leave.

“The General seems to like you,” Finn remarked timidly, offering a speck of levity once Hux was out of earshot.

Cassel grinned in an almost sheepish fashion.  “We have our differences.  The people that General Hux genuinely likes would make for a very short list, and trust me when I say that none of them would make for particularly pleasant company.”

She and Finn passed an uneasy smile, before Poe cut in.  “You've got a proper name.”

“Yes, I do,” she agreed casually. 

There was a pause, neither side continuing from what Poe had insinuated.

“I was never meant to be a Stormtrooper,” Cassel added placidly.

“No one was ever _meant_ to be a Stormtrooper!”  Poe interjected.  Finn’s discomfort was obvious as he ducked his head, staring at a point to the left of his boots.  Cassel shifted, not responding and leaving them hanging in uneasy silence, before producing a potted plant from behind her back.  The greenery spilled over the ceramic edges, a perfect match to the rest in the courtyard.

“A late wedding gift. I heard you had found yourself short one,” she told Rey, who was stunned.

“Why not just send that Silent Knight of yours to watch her, since they sent his soldiers?  I’ve seen how good he is at cutting people down who don’t do as they’re told,” Poe remarked pointedly, ignoring the gesture.

Cassel took a steadying breath, her face neutral.  “In my experience, it is hard to protect someone that you can’t speak with.  Even harder if the person hates you.  Besides, it is my hope that we do not require the open presence of a second Knight in the Palace.  We do already have Lord Ren here after all.  Are you expecting some manner of danger that would precipitate the need of another Knight, Mister Dameron?  Is there something I should know in order to assure Lady Ren’s safety?”

Poe remained silent as Cassel continued to offer the plant, holding it out to Rey.

“How did you know about that?” Rey asked in a strained tone.

Something akin to sympathy flashed across Cassel’s face.  “One thing about court life to learn quickly is that gossip travels faster than anything else in this world,” Cassel told her, but not unkindly.  The accent to her voice seemed at odds with itself depending on what words she spoke.  Rey wondered if she had moved around growing up, learning different patterns of speech that wove her own unique medley.

Rey reached out, fingers curling around the pot.  “Thank you,” she muttered somewhat stiffly.

“You are most welcome. Lieutenants CR-1178 and Shah are permitted and able to speak.  Shah, however is still affected by a chemical attack she suffered several years ago.  Please have patience with her if she struggles. If you are in need of anything or feel unsafe, please don't hesitate to speak to any of us. My soldiers will find what you need or find someone who can.  Guards will be posted to the entry of the Annex at all times to ensure your safety.  I have a briefing to attend, and I'm sure the General would miss me dearly were I to be late.  But we'll talk more later, my Lady?”

She offered a crisp bow, clicking her heels together in a way that rung her spurs like tiny bells before taking her leave.

Finn seemed a little impressed despite himself. Poe was scowling, though after hearing what had happened to him at D’Qar at the hands of the First Guards, Rey couldn’t blame him.

“Just because they dressed her up with a pretty face and a gift doesn't make her a good person. She's obviously here to spy on your every move, Rey.”

“Oh, of course she is,” Rey agreed.

“Wait, you think she’s pretty?”  Finn asked quickly.

“I think they mean for her to look that way,” Poe replied.

Rey shook her head, sighing before waving a dismissive hand. This was not unexpected.  “Enough about her.  I’ve got a mission for you both if you think you’re up for it.”

They looked at her with interest.

“Come with me,” she motioned them back to her room.  They walked through the door with a tentative curiosity.  Eyes roving over the grand furniture, lingering on the stunning view out the window.  After giving them a moment, she opened the wardrobe doors and pulled out the drawers of the chest next to it.  “Take a look.”

“It’s all… black…”  Finn remarked slowly.

“With a few dark shades of grey,” Poe added.

“Exactly.  I’m not playing that game for them.  I doubt they would want me to go out into Coruscant, and I don’t want to push my luck just yet.  But I don’t think they would stop you, seeing as they don’t really want you here to start with.  They’ll send a tail to make sure you aren’t doing anything nefarious of course, but what treason is there in a bit of shopping?”

“I’m in.”  Finn grinned.

Poe was downcast, though.  “Slight problem.  We don’t have any money.”

Rey moved to the small chest sitting on the displaced vanity.  “Take whatever you want and hawk it.” 

Poe chuckled, sifting through the jewelry.  “Some of this is actually nice,” he remarked offhandedly.  “It almost looks like more than one person put this together,” he mused.  “The clothes are like that, too.  Though some of it looks very practical, the rest would be more of a fire hazard than anything.”

Rey nodded, having had a similar thought going through it last night.  Poe huffed before taking a set of the gaudiest pieces, with great hulking black stones set into a matching choker and set of earrings.

“This should do well - value in the materials if not the craftsmanship,” he explained.

Bates ran excitedly across the courtyard after them as the two went to leave, tail wagging and tongue hanging out of his mouth. Poe knelt down, roughing up the dog’s fur a bit as he pet him.  Rey should have known they would have been able to get the dog in.  They had managed to smuggle pistols after all.

“Nah, you stay and look after Rey while we’re gone, okay?”  Bates looked between Poe and Rey, before padding quietly over and sitting at her feet.  She scratched his head appreciatively.

“Let’s go.  We’ve got an order from our Lady!” Poe grinned, tapping the back of his hand off of Finn’s chest and making for the annex exit.  The necklace slid surreptitiously from sight.

A smile blossomed on her face without permission as they left.  It felt stupid, but this seemed like some small victory.  Simply by not letting them put her in their colours, they had won.  She was still her, and they couldn’t take that away from her.

Maybe she could do this. 

 

* * *

 

 

The overly round mongrel was a mutt if Kylo had ever seen one. 

But said mutt was staring up at him venomously, standing tensely on stubby legs, snout curled into a snarl that might have been intimidating if he hadn’t been so damn cute.

_What am I supposed to do with this?_

Some loathing part of him knew that most people would probably expect him to simply kick the mongrel aside.  But he never had any real thought of doing such a thing.  How was he supposed to get past when he wanted to see her?  No - when he _needed_ to see her.  Some part of him expected she had already vanished into the night, seizing her first opportunity for flight.  Or maybe because something like her simply should not exist in the first place.

He should have been the one to introduce her to Alex, but of course Hux had chosen that moment to usher a beaten up outrider towards him - an outrider who carried a letter from the Supreme Leader.  Kylo could not afford to be seen putting off penning his response. Despite Snoke’s ability to speak directly into Kylo’s mind across immeasurable distances, he preferred forcing Kylo’s hand to paper for certain occasions.  It was a way to hold him accountable, Kylo knew.  It created a trail of paper that bound him to his words and actions, a trail quite easily picked up by others should it become necessary.

_The girl_.

Snoke “requested” to meet her following the wedding, but from the sealed letter, he appeared content to accept Kylo’s word that this would have been counterproductive.  He almost appeared amused at Kylo’s plea for patience. 

They had her locked within their sphere of influence even if they did not have her cooperation.  She needed no further provocation to resist them:  she had made that clear last night.

It was hazardous allowing those two fools to remain close to her.  Hux had emphatically argued against it.  He wanted her cowed and locked away.  Afraid and secure. 

Kylo disagreed.    

Those two idiots would remind her of her feelings, her attachments.  She had been alone for so long, it was painfully obvious how much pleasure she found in having companions.  A pleasure her time at Ahch-To had wrenched her from.  The return of her newfound friends would unknowingly assist him in staving her away from his Uncle’s beloved code.  Allowing her those two at her side also gave her a sense of security which he believed would stem her resentment towards him, and the First Order.

And besides - he wanted her to burn brightly.  There was no need to snuff out a beautiful flame if one could contain it - even hope, just maybe, to _control it_.

The brighter the light, the longer the shadow that trailed in its wake.

When she had drawn up against something that she was uncomfortable with last night, she had lashed out.  But she _had_ lashed out, drawing power from a cold rage that Kylo well knew would have disappointed Uncle Luke.  It had sent a thrill down his spine when he felt the Force answer her without her even consciously beckoning it to her will.

And she had been curious, hungry to understand things.

Those were feelings that could be useful.    

He had been further waylaid by the meeting Hux had called, although he could not argue that there were pressing matters to be discussed.

Why had the Republic garrisoned the better part of their army in Hosnia?  And why had the First Order’s _very_ well paid informants either not known, or not told them about it?

Somewhat inconveniently, most of the people involved with the decision were dead.  Casterfo and his cronies did not seem inclined to budge, offering only token dismissive answers when asked.  Some had been keen to press him further, but in an odd display of amity, Hux and Kylo had both argued that that would be a risk in their tenuous situation.  People needed see them at least pretending to cooperate with the remnants of the Republic government. 

For now. 

In the end, Ren had proposed that he investigate the matter more subtly, with the assistance of Alex and the First Guards.  That had satisfied the rest of the room, Alex’s sterling reputation preceding her as always. 

“Bates, what are you doing?”

He started at her voice.  He should have known she was there.  Had he been that distracted?  Or had she been trying to hide from him?  She shouldn’t know how, but then she shouldn’t have known how to do most of what she had accomplished so far.

Kylo edged forward, skirting lightly around the still snarling whelp who snapped at his heels.

Rey was hauling a large bronze pitcher full of water. 

_She’d been watering the plants?_

The banality of such an action pricked confusion in him.  There were people being _paid_ to do that.  Her rejection of the clothing that had been given to her, however, was somewhat amusing.  Perhaps for no other reason than the oddity of seeing a Jedi Knight’s attire rucked up by lowly labour.

The mutt had beaten a hasty retreat back to Rey’s side.  Sitting possessively on her foot while she put the pitcher down.

She watched him, eyes cursing over his mask, but he made no move to take it off.  He had no interest in baiting her, and he knew his face was more than likely to give something away he had not fully understood, but knew he needed to hide from her.

“What do you want?” she finally asked.

“Is there anything you need?  I understand that your… friends… have gone into the city.”

“I don’t need anything from you.”

He hesitated a moment.  “Did you sleep well?”

“No.”

So much for civility. 

“Do you have any questions?” he tried.

She looked as if she was going to refuse him again, purely on principal, but her face shifted as she bit her lower lip gently, gaze dropping away from him almost guiltily.

“How does the faucet in the bath work?  And the fountain?  Where does the water come from?”

“You want to know about the plumbing?” he deadpanned, unable to muster any other reaction.

She shrugged. “I’ve read about running water, piping, ground wells, aquifers and aqueducts, but I’ve never seen them before.”

It was easy to forget how little of the world she had seen.  There was so much out there for her.

Her refusal of his support when they had arrived at the feast was not surprising to him, but her reaction to the overzealous display of food and finery had been.  Left with his hand tied to hers but still so far removed, a realization struck him deep: that was far more food than she had seen in her entire life. 

It stirred an ire in him, bubbling with a familiar sting.  He knew something of Niima - knew how that great pig Unkar Plutt lorded over the place, handing out meagre scraps to those forced to rely on him to survive.  The urge to allow the swine to waste away in some ill-fated galley, with the fat melting off of him in days spent exposed to harsh work and sweltering heat below decks prickled pleasurably at a side of his mind. 

That same rage hit him again, but the anger was not for him, he had not been wronged – _it was for her_.  His anger, his yearning to mete out judgement, it was for her.  It came from thinking of her being so alone and so harshly set upon in this damnable world.

His curiosity he could understand and not be blamed for.  She was singularly unique, gifted in so many ways. 

His maneuvering for her could be easily justify.  She held immeasurable potential, and he was one of the few who could unlock it – or contain it. 

His desire he could even concede to with little loss of face.

Pity, or worse yet _compassion_ – was not something that he could contemplate or excuse.

He needed to leave.

“Someone will show you later.  I’ll have somebody sent here that knows the system,” he found himself telling her.  “You are allowed to leave the annex,” he continued quickly.  Her interest peaked at that, eyes lighting and coming up to look at him again, making his need to leave this conversation even more imperative.  He could not simply flee her, though.

“The Palace is not laid out in a simple manner.  I would encourage you to ask for one of the Guards to escort you so you don’t get lost.  But it is not required.  There will be plenty of Troopers and others throughout the Palace if you lose your way.”

His breath hitched slightly, watching as her eyes narrowed and she actually _smirked_.  He could see her distilling the politely veiled reminder that she would be kept out of places she was not meant to be, and that she would never be far from a watcher.

“I look forward to exploring, Ren.”

She turned away, picking up the pitcher - off to water another plant.  The mutt trotted right on her heel, sparing one last spiteful glance at Kylo.

The dismissal didn’t matter, it gave him his chance to escape.  But he had all but forgotten the need to flee with his mind buoyed by one word for her lips. 

_Ren_.

She had called him by name. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I am so very sorry to have vanished for this long. My absence can be succinctly explained: because grad school. My hope is to be more regular with the updates again, pending work on my thesis over the summer. I also have a few other shorter fics that will hopefully find their way to being posted in the near future. 
> 
> On a couple content points, I grabbed the name Ransolm Casterfo when I saw a blurb about Bloodlines several months ago, wherein he was named as a political opponent of Leia. I have not read the novel but as I understand it the way I am writing him bears no resemblance to the character, please excuse me on that count. I've tried to sub in pre-existing names in the SW universe for things wherever possible if it makes sense instead of making them up. Also, I have seen many arranged marriage fics crop up since I've been gone. I have intentionally avoided reading them read. I do hope I am not going down the same ideas as others...
> 
> Thank you for your patience, wonderful readers, and your warm reception to this fic thus far!

“There’s our tail.  Right on schedule,” Poe announced.  Finn whipped his head around, only to have Poe grab him, dragging him out of the path of traffic until his back hit a wall.  Finn was momentarily stunned when Poe leaned in closer, whispering so no one else could hear them.

“Don’t stare at her - this is a game of who knows what who else knows, and we don’t want her knowing we know she knows we are here.” 

Finn’s head spun, trying to parse out the twisting sentence and Poe’s proximity, not entirely succeeding on either front. 

“We aren’t doing anything wrong, not really.  If we seem nervous, they have grounds for concern, which will make them watch us closer.  We don’t want that,” Poe explained kindly.

“Right,” Finn agreed.  Poe clapped him on the shoulders before steering them back into traffic, only for a child to knock heavily into Poe, who grunted.

“Hey!”  Finn yelled after her, but Poe caught him by the shoulder and steered him on.

“Poe, that was probably a _pickpocket_.”

Poe cracked a radiant grin.  “I know she was, my friend.  But she is _our_ pickpocket.”

“What?”

“The First Order and those damn Guards watch our every move. I can’t exactly meet with any of the Resistance contacts.  But what are they going to think about me getting run into by children?  It happens every day to almost everyone on the streets of this city, even if the kid isn’t a thief.”  Finn’s face burst with a smile at the simple brilliance of it.

“This little rascal dropped something off as well as taking it,” Poe grinned, subtly palming the tiny roll of paper to where Finn could see it.

It was a quickly inked sketch of the Resistance Starbird, with an “L” scrawled underneath it in a delicate loop.

“We’re gonna do this,” Poe sighed, belief flooding through his words.  Finn hoped, and prayed to anything that might be listening that he was right.

 

* * *

 

 

Ren was good on his promise of sending someone to show her the piped system that supplied the Palace with fresh water.  The easily excitable architect almost had Rey running around the Palace, showing her all the most accessible parts of the system, places it had been repaired or modified when parts had been reconstructed or renovated over the years. 

He even took Rey down into the lower levels, showing her where some of the water was heated.  Rey hadn’t even thought about that as a possibility on this kind of scale.  Somewhat against her better judgement, she enjoyed the first hot bath of her life that evening, knowing Finn and Poe once again had taken up guard at her door after helping her put away the clothing they’d purchased.  The awful jewelry had furnished her with a small but practical everyday wardrobe with a bit of money to spare.  They all agreed to save that for emergencies.

Soaking in the soothing heat, she recalled the path the architect had taken her on.  Thinking about the webbing of pipes that linked the entire palace together.  Could that be useful information somehow?  The more she learned, the better she decided.  Even if it was not valuable information for whatever shadowy endeavour she was leading, she enjoyed learning.

The next morning while she was watering the plants, a man who introduced himself as the gardener showed up, shocked that she was doing his work for him.  She smiled, telling him how happy she was to have the chance to grow something.  He seemed stunned, shuffling awkwardly before asking her if she would like to see some of the other gardens in the Palace.  She happily agreed, being led on another tour of the expansive building and beyond towards the walls.  There were courtyards and walkways everywhere, all garnished in a wealth of life.

A day later, while she, Finn and Poe were taking a meal in the small dining hall of the Annex, one of the servants timidly asked if she wanted to see the ovens in the kitchens and learn how they were used to circulate heat to some of the floors.  She agreed.

It continued like that for the first week.  At the start, she thought maybe the staff were being put up to it.  But when a stable boy, cap in hand, and a young First Order ensign both showed up in her courtyard at the same time on the sixth day, offering respectively to show her the stable and a tour of the walls, she knew that somehow, people had heard about her curiosity and either wanted to show her things, or wanted to satiate their own interest by spending time with the mysterious wife of Kylo Ren.

“How about we do both?” she had offered the two boys.  One was in rough wear, the other in a crisp uniform that was still too big for him.  They eyed each other up before agreeing.

The stable boy led her through the barns that he worked in, asking her pardon for not knowing all of the barns as there were far too many for any one set of staff.  Later, the little officer spouted off his history lessons in what she guessed was a word for word speech, detailing the structure of the older ramparts, how they had been breached at various times, how the Palace’s sloped star walls had been constructed over several decades in previous centuries, how there were rumours of tunnels connecting the Palace and the Senate.

Eventually she realised a simple truth: when she listened, people were willing to talk to her.

She started taking it all down in a messy scrawl at night.  It was difficult for her to write for very long.  She’d never had pen or paper on Jakku, rarely writing even if she was highly efficient at reading.

“I don’t know if anything is useful, but can you get this to Leia?” she asked Poe one night, sure they were alone as he stood guard on her door.  He nodded, eyes leafing through the information.

The First Guards were ever present but never intrusive.  She knew at least four were standing at the door of the Annex at all times, vetting her visitors.  But their silence and distance made them slip out of notice, which was probably the way they were meant to be.  Hidden quietly in plain sight.

Ren hovered at the entry to the Annex nearly every day, seeming to think better of approaching her when she caught his hidden gaze and held it unflinchingly.

She had kept a page hidden in the large desk of her room, where every day she added a tally to the count.  On the ninth morning, she rose even earlier than usual, sleep coming in fits and bursts as it had since she had agreed to do this.

She slipped into a simple pair of trousers and a shirt that Poe had chosen for her, adding a vest before leaving her room.  A sleepy Finn gave her a wave before heaving himself off of the wall he was leaning on and lumbering towards his room. He took the covered walkway at the edge of the courtyard, disappearing from sight as Rey crossed to the fountain, filling her pitcher.  She nearly dropped it in surprise as Cassel started, sliding off her perch on the railing of the walkway. 

“Apologies, my Lady.  I did not mean to frighten you,” she chased the words quickly one after the other.

“I think we startled each other,” Rey offered.  “What were you doing?”

“We had someone break into one of the lower levels just after midnight.  Lord Ren asked me to remain here while he led the hunt for the culprit,” she explained. 

Rey looked over the woman, seeing her in a different light than when Hux had tepidly introduced her.  Ren had specifically asked Cassel to guard the Annex.  He seemed to have some manner of trust in this woman, or at least held a high opinion of her abilities.

Rey gave a noncommittal shrug, continuing towards one of the plants.  A break in?  That was _interesting_ – and something for them to look into later.  Ren’s presence suddenly pricked at her periphery, and she ducked closer to the fountain.

Cassel jumped to her feet, hand on her sword as Ren’s approach became audible, steps echoing with no effort to conceal them.  She relaxed when she saw who it was. 

“Alex,” Ren greeted in a casual tone that surprised Rey.

Cassel - _Alex_ \- frowned at him. “Good morning, my _Lord_ ,” she hung on the last word, and Rey watched Ren quickly find her in the shadow of the gurgling fountain.

“Do you have anything to report, Major?”  Ren awkwardly asked, voice straining into a strangely higher pitch.

“No, Sir. There have been no incidents. The Annex is secure and all inhabitants are well - if not sleeping decently,” Cassel added as an afterthought.

“Good,” he managed stiffly.

“Did you catch whoever broke in?”  Rey was unsure why she was asking him, let alone that he would tell her anything.  But he nodded, striding closer to her.  Cassel trailed behind him.

“We were far more concerned than the situation merited,” he told her calmly.  “Colonel Datoo decided that he was not subject to the rules and brought in a girl from one of the brothels in the city.  She took the opportunity once he was soundly asleep to search for something more valuable than whatever fee she gained from him.”

“What did you do to her?”  It was almost more of a threat than a question, but with his mask as impermeable as ever, Rey had no way of knowing how he reacted to her tone.

“I took away the silver candle stick she thought about hitting me with and sent her back to the brothel.  Having to fuck men like Datoo-” Rey felt an unwanted tint rise on her cheeks, shying from his hidden gaze “-is punishment enough.  It is little wonder she sought to find a way out of that life.”  His tone was indifferent as he explained why he had lead a manhunt to find a thief who walked away unscathed. 

“What about Datoo?”  Cassel asked, evident dislike dripping in her tone.

“Hux is meeting with him now.  I doubt it will be a pleasant experience.”  The errant glee in his voice was unmistakable.  “The General is rather embarrassed that one of his senior staff so blatantly misbehaved.”  Ren looked back at Rey.  “Go get some rest, Major.”  Cassel made the same half bow she had on the first day they’d met, spurs ringing, and left them.

“I hear you are making friends.”

 _I hear you aren’t_ , she thought glibly as she raised an eyebrow and nodded curtly.

“Where are your lackeys?” he inquired tepidly.  What was he after?

“Sleeping I expect,” she pushed on before he could respond.  “Why didn’t you kill her?”

His shock seemed almost genuine.  “ _What_?”

“You had an entire village slaughtered - you killed your own _father_.”  The words tasted acrid as they left her mouth.

He recoiled, stillness and observation of her cast off into an uneasy searching around the courtyard.  “Their deaths served a purpose.  The villagers were a liability.  Han Solo was a threat.  She was nothing.”

He had tried so hard to keep his voice blank, detached, practical.  But he wavered, and they both knew it.  “I don’t take pleasure in wanton murder.  If I commit violence against a person, I intend for there to be a reason.  She was no threat to me and offered no resistance, nor was she a threat to others.”

“Who was your father a threat to, Ren?”

His fists clenched and he shook, tall frame trembling.  “Han Solo can’t save any of us now.” 

He turned on his heels and practically fled the courtyard.

 

* * *

 

“Oh come on, a little scouting can't hurt. We poke around a bit and claim to be lost if somebody says anything!” 

Finn was so excited, and Poe could never deny him anything.  “Alright, my friend.  Lead the way.”

It seemed like a good idea, until they really did get lost.  Poe would have liked a word with the high and mighty Jedi who had originally designed the place.  Maybe they could make sense of it with their mystical Force powers, but it was a maze as far as he was concerned.  None of it made sense, looping hallways through areas that had been renovated at some point in the last century or so, leaving a person stepping from a dank and drafty corridor into a bright hallway carpeted with imported rugs and lit brightly by hundreds of candles set in delicate metal chandeliers.

Stormtroopers, First Order officers and others were everywhere, buzzing with work and seeming less daunted by the layout than Poe was.  His eyes caught on the papers and cases some carried between offices and meeting rooms, wondering what wealth of information could be gleaned if he managed to catch a glance.

He nudged Finn, pointing to a particularly young man in a lieutenant's uniform scuttling towards them, bent over the weight of a stack of ledgers he could barely see over.

“I’m going to bump into him ‘by accident’ - you distract him.  Help him up and I’ll ‘help’ collect that stack of papers,” he whispered, and Finn nodded.

The kid never saw Poe coming, striding right into him.  Poe hadn’t quite accounted for the weight of the books, and went tumbling down with the kid in a heap.

He rolled over, hearing people rushing towards them, bootsteps muffled by the carpet, scabbards jangling at their sides.

“I’m so sorry!” the boy professed honestly as Finn hauled him to his feet, as planned.

“Are you both alright?” 

Poe sighed at Cassel’s voice, accompanied by her gloved hand in an offer to help him up.  Several of her First Guards were collecting the mess of papers strewn all over the floor.

So much for that plan.

“I’m so sorry!  I’m fine, ma’am!” the lieutenant squeaked, while Poe just nodded.  The Guards handed the boy back his load, and he continued racing down the hallway.  Finn was doing a poor job of not looking guilty.  They were going to have to work on this subterfuge thing. The poor guy was too honest. “Sorry for the trouble, Major Cassel,” Finn apologised.

“Trouble?” Cassel waved a hand good-naturedly.  “Lieutenant Eicke is fresh in his commission and more than a little nervous.  He probably wasn’t looking where he was going.  It isn’t as if I caught you in one of the officer’s quarters, or the armoury, or the archives, or in a meeting, or some such place if you were up to something less than honest.”  She smirked - and Poe was caught between wondering if she was telling him where _to_ look or where _not_ to look.  “And if I had, I would likely need to punish the Guards for doing such a horrible job of helping you find your way around the Palace,” she added with a sarcastic barb.  “Now, gentleman. Please allow CR-355 to escort you back to the West Annex, unless there was somewhere else you were heading? Perhaps I can arrange a guided tour for you at some point?”

“Thank you, Major Cassel. You've been very helpful.”  Poe clapped a hand on Finn’s shoulder, letting the Guard take the lead and leaving Cassel behind.

Poe was briefly lost in a memory as they trudged through the Palace.  To when Finn had appeared, to when he had told Poe with such a plain face that FN-2187 was the only name the First Order had ever given him.  How many names had they taken from people?  How many lost their name today?  Yesterday?  How many would lose them tomorrow, with no one to help them?  He cleared his mind and then his throat before carefully starting.  “CR-355, eh? Do you remember your _real_ name?”

Silence.  Which was not particularly unexpected.

“What about a nickname?” Finn added gently.

More silence.

Poe and Finn continued to look expectedly at the First Guard, who finally gave an irritated huff, and a wave of a hand that clearly meant " _stop bothering me_."

“I never got a nickname.  Lots of other Troopers in my regiment did, though. You never came up with it yourself - someone else had to give it to you,” Finn continued conversationally.  “CR-355?”  The Guard looked at him.  “If we wrote that out, flipped the three around, it would look like Cress.” 

The Guard stopped in his tracks, helmet hiding the surprise that his body showed so clearly.

“Cress,” Poe added, nodding.  “It would be a good nickname, wouldn’t it?  Easier to call you than CR-355.”

The Guard hesitated, walking quickly ahead of them for a few moments before turning and giving a tiny nod. 

When they arrived back at the Annex, and Cress gave them a farewell gesture with his hands, Finn put a hand on his shoulder.  “Thanks for the help, Cress.”  The Guard nodded less hesitantly before marching away.

Oh, maybe this had not been a wasted trip after all...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I solemnly swear that Rey and Ren spend most of the next chapter together complete with the drama that such a situation is likely to incur at this point. Thank you for sticking with me through the set up and world building phase of this story! Onwards!


	8. Chapter 8

Ren stayed away for a few days, and the mood in the Palace was notably higher strung than it had been. Rey’s trail of visitors stopped, though the staff continued to show her every kindness. Finn and Poe came and went on make believe errands, taking what little the three of them thought could be of some use to Leia’s couriers.

Leia herself was about to begin sitting in the sham of a Senate that Hux had outlined. There were six Senators left with Casterfo leading them as Chancellor. The only question was who the First Order would place as consuls to control the proceedings. 

Rey had curled herself up in the corner of the balcony that overlooked the sea, sipping a cup of what they called ‘tea’ and flipping through an old history book she’d come across in an unrestricted archive. A dark wave brushed the side of her mind, and she hissed, leaping to her feet, accidentally sending the cup flying as she went. Guilt flooded her at the waste when it shattered, leaving a damp stain on the stone floor. 

Ren took the last few steps quickly.

“Are you okay?”

She waved him off, gesturing to the scattered china. “Accident,” she muttered.

He regarded the chips and her for a moment. “I’m going to inspect something odd that came in at the checkpoint a few miles outside of the city. Come with me?”

The directness stunned her, but not so much as that it was an offer rather than an attempt at ordering her. “Why?” she shot back.

“You feel cooped up and would be happier if you get out of the Palace for a while. You have been staring at the city, wanting to see it up close for two weeks. It would be good for us to be seen together. I would rather not go alone but have no desire to have a crowd of Stormtroopers clattering after me,” he paused for a moment. “It will give you your first good chance to kill me or escape. Take your pick.” He shrugged.

Was this his roundabout way of asking for her company?

He froze stoically under her gaze, chin held high as if he could somehow sway her measuring of him.

“Alright,” she found herself agreeing out loud.

A small group of First Guards waited for them near the stables. One handed Ren the reins of his great black stallion that was impatiently pawing at the cobbled ground, steel shoes clacking loudly. A lieutenant offered Rey the reins of a solidly built grey gelding, almost as tall as Ren’s horse and certainly larger than anything Rey had ever ridden. The lieutenant startled Rey as he spoke, being the first of the Guards other than Cassel to do so. “Charon, my Lady. He’s one of the Guard’s mounts, lovely animal,” he told her happily, patting the horse.

She almost took the offer of a leg up, but thought better, managing to swing herself up. Even the saddle felt odd: she was used to the meanest scraps of leather or nothing at all. But this had a deep and comfortable seat, and her feet couched easy in the stirrups. 

Ren led them out of one of the Palace’s side entrances, through guarded but open gates before cutting through a few streets towards the long thoroughfare that ran straight through the city. They were waved through the checkpoints that stratified Coruscant without delay. A buzzing din slowly built as they approached the main gate.

Their escort peeled off at a gesture from Ren, leaving them trotting through the massive city gate alone. The arched ceiling towered so far above them it was difficult to see in the middle as the light from either side faded. 

“It’s quite something, isn’t it?” Ren remarked.

“I never knew the city walls were quite this massive,” she admitted. Having arrived on the Falcon, sailing in during the cover of night she had not seen the great walls that ringed the city. 

They came through on the other side, sunlight bursting around them. Rey noticed the queue of all sorts lined up, waiting to enter the city but held back by a group of Stormtroopers. Had they really stopped the flow of traffic just for them?

People were pointing at both of them, whispering to one another. Some kept their tones hushed, others made no effort to hide their bitterness towards Ren…and her. A particularly loud man mimicked slitting Ren’s throat with great theatrics, only to be shoved out of line by the butts of Stormtrooper muskets. 

“Come on,” Ren told her quietly, leaving the scene without looking back.

He didn’t say anything else as they rode, settling into an easy trot, but when the queue at the gate was firmly behind him he let his eyes wander, surveying their surroundings and watching her.

There was so much to see. The road was level, paved with great slabs of stone. Its edges were fringed with a long grass - more of a yellow green than what she had seen at Takodana. Trees edged the road as well, cut back several feet from it. Trees with round leaves, trees with pointed leaves, trees with no leaves at all but rather a furry set of needles fringing their bows.

It was beautiful. It was all so alive.

She lost track of time, until Ren called her attention. He’d slowed to a walk, and pointed down the hill to what must have been the checkpoint. The large stone gate hovered over the road, doors open for people to trickle through once they had been stopped and inspected by the Stormtroopers guarding it. 

“Think you can beat me there?” he challenged.

She didn’t bother replying, instead adding leg and surging forward down the hill. She heard Ren coming after her. Charon was nothing like the poor underfed little mare she’d haggled off of Unkar Plutt. He was well nourished, big and seemed to relish her urging him on. She’d imagined racing through the dunes, the idea carrying her to troubled sleep as she envisioned it in her mind some nights, but it didn’t make any sense. The energy it would waste was immense, and other than the thought that she might enjoy it, there was no purpose.

It was anyone’s guess whether she or Ren had edged in front of the other when they reached the checkpoint. Stormtroopers rushed towards them, muskets ready in their hands, confused when Ren waved them off, dismissively explaining that nothing was wrong. Rey was hit with immediate discomfort. Their rather ostentatious arrival seemed to have scared not only the Troopers but also the people waiting at the checkpoint, causing them to jostle. She could hear Troopers shouting at them to stay in line.

They dismounted, handing the reins of their horses to two of the Troopers. Rey hesitated, unsure of what she was meant to do now. Did she follow Ren? He had begun striding away, up the stone steps into the small fortified structure that was built on either side of the gate. He looked over his shoulder, motioning with a quick tilt of his head for her to come with him.

“We left it locked in here, Sir,” the Trooper leading them up a flight of stairs indicated, handing Ren a key off of his belt. The Trooper left, leaving them alone. Ren slid the key into the lock, and hefted the heavy door open. The hinges protested, but gave way.

Ren made a noise of awe in the back of his throat, gliding forward to survey something Rey couldn’t see. 

“What is it?”

“A very old book that someone really shouldn’t have had,” he murmured, hands tracing delicately over the battered cover. He flicked through pages, before shutting it firmly and lifting it gingerly from the desk it sat on. He left the room without another word, and Rey followed him. Shutting the door caused it to make just as great a fuss as opening it. They retraced their steps, finding the Trooper sitting at a table, making marks in a ledger.

“I am taking the item with me. Have the merchant who was intending to peddle it sent to the Palace. I want to speak with him about where he acquired it.”

The hair on the back of Rey’s neck prickled, images of a faceless man being subject to interrogation at Ren’s hands flashing through her mind. She turned away from him, scowling.

“Of course, Sir.”

The book found its way into Ren’s saddlebag before he swung back up into the tack. The Trooper Rey had left her horse with offered her a leg up, but she surprised him when she leapt almost as easily into the saddle as Ren had done. Almost because of course he had a good several inches on her.

Ren gave no farewell to the Troopers as they left, and Rey had no idea what she might say to them, even if it felt rude to leave without a word. The thought of the poor merchant haunted Rey as they picked up an easy trot. She purposefully ignored Ren, looking away when he steered closer to her. His agitation in her shift in mood wafted off of him, palpable and hot in the Force as he made no effort to conceal it. 

“Oi! Where ya think ya goin’ there, yer Lordship?” a man’s voice growled jeeringly at them. Ren’s helmet whipped around to the sound, at the same time as more than a dozen men rushed out of the trees that had grown thick and closer to the road on either side of them.

It was the perfect place for an ambush, Rey realised, too late. How had they both been so distracted? 

“We can simply break through. There is no need to worry about fighting them,” Ren told her calmly. Rey nodded. Ren’s stallion launched into a charge, and Rey urged her Charon to follow him. Only a few strides later, though, a shot rang out and the poor horse gave a great cry before he collapsed to the ground. Rey came flying off, but managed to roll into a more graceful landing. The horse struggled to his feet, limping away. The men let him, closing in around Rey. 

She felt for the lightsaber at her belt, but hesitated - she didn’t want to kill any of them, and their odd assortment of aged weapons would offer them no protection from her saber’s blows.

Their cautious circling ended as Ren charged back through them, red saber flashing in unrepentantly fierce swings. One man rushed at her, thrusting an archaic spear at her chest. She sidestepped, grabbing the shaft as he overreached. She twisted it upwards, pulling him close enough that she could knee him in the gut. He let go of the spear, coughing and doubling over. She hit him hard enough over the head with the butt of the spear that she was satisfied he wasn’t getting up for a while.

She squared with another opponent, the feel of the spear immediately familiar in her hands - it was so similar to her quarterstaff. Her attacker on the other hand did not seem comfortable with the rusted sword in his hands. She parried his slashes easily, careful not to let the edge bite into the wood, all the while drawing him closer - then letting the shaft of the spear come down hard on his outstretched arm. She heard the crack, and he howled as he fell to his knees, cradling his more than likely broken arm. 

She spun around twirling the spear with her in an arc and then thrusting it out, forcing the two men who had moved to attack her back. She repeated the motion a few times, forcing space and time for her to think. 

She chanced a glance at Ren. He had either fallen off his horse, or dismounted. The black stallion was nowhere in sight. Ren howled furiously as he threw his blade down on a bullet that melted into a hissing splatter of metal. Rey lost track of what happened next, turning to her own problem - or problems. She cast the spear out again, forcing the two of them apart and sliding into the space. As she expected, they both lunged at her, and she stepped back, allowing them to clumsily collide. As they regained their footing, she gave them each a swift jab to their ribs with the butt of the spear, and they both fell, struggling for breath. 

Suddenly, a grubby hand grabbed her from behind. She howled in rage, dropping into a low, wide-footed stance that broke his hold on her and gave her a better position of balance. She wasted no time rounding on him, delivering a resounding blow to his head as he clumsily reached for the cudgel he had failed to use.

Having no time to celebrate the small victory, she had to duck quickly as a sword sliced through the air at her. Her foot hit a piece of uneven ground as she ducked again, and she found herself staggering, suddenly staring down the barrel of a pistol and knowing a sword was being swung at her from behind. 

Everything slowed at the same time as her mind sped up.

He was going to pull that trigger, and she couldn’t think of a way to stop it. Even if she could, there would be death from above as that blade fell. 

She moved anyway, finding an unexpected surge of speed. She had no chance if she did nothing. She knew she had avoided the sword, but the man kept the pistol trained on her at point blank range.

Something buzzed behind her, and then that erratic red blade fell in an arc through the air, separating the man’s outstretched hand from his body, and he let out a howling whine that was silenced as Ren’s saber glided around in a twisting arc that brought it through the man’s neck.

Rey could only stand and stare as her would be assailant fell to the ground in a heap of parts – before remembering the sword behind her, spinning to see the man with the sword splayed on the ground. 

Bodies were strewn around her. 

She had broken a few bones, maybe concussed the brute that made the mistake of trying to cop a feel instead of attacking her properly, but none of the men she fought would be permanently maimed, and they certainly weren’t dead. At least, they hadn’t been when she had left them. Not one was moving now, nor were any emitting a single sound. They weren’t people strewn around her anymore, they were just bodies. 

“Are you okay?” Ren asked. He was surveying the field, looking tensed for a new threat. 

She was about ready to give him one. “What did you do that for?”

“Why did I save your life?” He had the audacity to sound confused, hurt even.

“Why did you kill him? You’d already made very sure that he wasn’t going to shoot.”

“And now I know he never will again,” he waved off idly.

“What about the rest of them? Is that your solution for everything? What happened to not taking pleasure in wanton violence?”

“That was not wanton. He was willing to kill you - they all were. Why shouldn’t I - or you - be willing to kill to defend yourself?” He took two steps towards her, and before she knew it the spear was on the ground and her lightsaber was alive in her hands, serving as a barrier between them.

“And what are you going to do with that?” he asked in an interested tone.

“Defend myself,” she gritted at him.

His laugh was audible even under that damned helmet. She leapt to attack, and he obligingly wheeled his saber in response. “How is this defence? You always seem to strike at me first, Rey,” he taunted. He let her press after him, knocking all of her strikes away and returning them - though he always seemed to hit her saber without her moving to block it herself. 

She pressed and pressed, but he continued to step evenly backwards, eventually bringing them into the line of trees their assailants had jumped from. Eerie memories crept into her mind as they moved through the trees. She could feel the ghost of snow falling on her face and hear the sounds of the Resistance forces trying to set fire to Starkiller fleet.

The trees did not go on for long, and they came into a clearing. Ren swung a particularly vicious blow at her saber, knocking her off balance and sending her staggering to the side as she fought to keep her grip on the hilt. She almost tripped on a simple wooden bench, suddenly becoming aware that they had stumbled into what looked like a camp.

Bile rose in her throat as she saw a fire still burning, with a pot over it full of a stew that was never going to be eaten. She struck out harder, forgetting what little form she knew and slashing at him. For a moment he seemed to be taken aback, conceding a few steps in a harried fashion, but he regained his composure, continuing to allow her to press him farther and farther back. Frustrated, she feinted a strike to his left before rolling right, intending to strike low. 

But as she hit the ground, it gave out from under her.

“Rey!” she heard him call as she fell into the dark. She managed to flick her saber off in the air, terrified of landing on it when she hit the bottom of this hole.

She gasped as her shoulder struck something hard, hearing a sickening pop as she continued to fall, finally hitting a packed dirt floor in a painful heap.

“Rey!” he called again, an edge of desperation shooting off of him. He’d never said her name before, and two times in a row - such a strange thing to hear from him. She had some inclination that she should probably respond, but her mind felt heavy, thoughts sluggish as she tried to move past the pain emanating from her shoulder and the haziness in her head.

A red light started coming towards her, seeming to float down the hole.

He landed a few feet away from her, managing to keep a surprising amount of his dignity as he rose from a deep crouch, saber acting as a torch as he rushed towards her.

She struggled to her feet, nearly falling over, only to find her right arm hanging uselessly from her side. She tried to hide this, igniting her saber clumsily with her left hand and leveling it at him again.

His left hand came up, tearing his helmet off. 

Cast in the light of their sabers, she saw his face for the first time since this whole ordeal had begun.

The faint scar that she had slashed across his face barely stood out against his pale skin, but her eyes were instantly drawn to it. Somehow she had thought it would make him ugly, or at least mar him in some way. But the thin line somehow matched the sharp angles of his face, almost complementing them. It certainly did not make him ugly.

“Rey, please stop-” His eyes implored even more strongly than his voice. She took an errant swing at him, not hoping to make contact but needing him to shut up, to stop him from looking at her like that. He gave her a scolding glare before motioning to their new surroundings. “You may wish to rethink that.”

She peeled her eyes away from him, taking in the place she’d fallen. The room was lined with rows of tall wooden shelves - one of which she must have hit on the way down - and every one of them was laden with barrels of what appeared to be gunpowder. 

He opened his mouth but she offered another halfhearted swipe. He gently parried and then leapt beyond her reach. “We can keep this up, and run the risk of reducing ourselves to dust and ashes. Or we can agree to do what is best for both of us and call a temporary truce until we get out of here. Your choice, Rey.” The light from his saber disappeared, and he clipped the hilt to his belt. 

Ren was striding towards her, eyes surveying her injured arm.

She staggered back, left hand feeling sloppy as she put her saber between them again. She hated feeling this vulnerable in front of him, but he did not stop his approach. “What are you doing?” she growled at him.

He stilled, putting his hands up in a mock surrender for her to see. “Your shoulder is dislocated, and I doubt you can set it on your own.”

“Keep your hands off of me.” Reluctantly, she let the light die from her saber, but kept a tight grip on the handle. She regretted the decision as the darkness swallowed them both, the faint light let in from the hole she’d made in the roof barely enough to see by. “I think I trust you to care enough about your own life that you won’t blow yourself up, but I certainly don’t want you anywhere near me.”

He let his hands come to a rest behind his back, tilting his head to observe her. “Ah, so the lonely little scavenger still does not like to be touched.”

Was he goading her for a reaction? Mocking me is not going to get you anywhere. “Why would I want to have you touch me? And why would I believe you want to help me when you were just trying to kill me?”

He let out a dismissive huff, features curling into a set of disappointment. “We both know that is not true. I wasn’t trying to kill you any more than you were trying to kill me. You were angry, and have been for some time. I was there to lash out at, safe to lash out at because you can pretend your anger came from what I did. Which I concede some of it is, but certainly not all of it.”

She remained silent, but her body quivered in the faintest of tremors.

“Rey, you are in pain. I can feel it,” he almost pleaded. 

Sometimes she hated the strange senses the Force brought them. “I can manage. I always have.”

“But you don’t have to this time.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Because you don’t like to be touched. Poor FN-2187-”

“His name is Finn,” she bit out.

“He finds you,” he pointed at her and watched as her eyes immediately fixed on his hand. “A true lifeline in that graveyard of a desert and you tell him twice to stop holding your hand.”

Rey was taken aback. “I didn’t know anything about him then… I was…”

“You were afraid. I saw it in your eyes from his mind.” 

She gasped as the memory surged on her. Her head had been so groggy, ringing from being knocked off of the tree and full of a presence she didn’t understand. Finn’s cry had cut through the fog, acting as a beacon for her consciousness to drag itself back into the world.

Ren had Finn pinned to a tree, the jagged crossguard of his saber digging into Finn’s shoulder. The light cast from the saber had washed Finn’s face in a violent glow, and Rey could see his eyes snap in response to a new pain, the flow of the Force driving towards him. Ren had done something to his mind. She was sure of it now.

“You hide your fear well; he did not understand that was what you were feeling,” his voice shook her, and she bristled, staggering back from him.

“Don’t be afraid. I understand. You were so utterly alone, for so long. No family to remember, no friends of note until so recently - how were you ever supposed to understand how a hand could bring pleasure or comfort when it had only ever been raised at you in threat,” he crooned gently.

His words tugged at her as she paled, feeling the colour flush from her face and her heart sink through her chest, turning to ash as surely as if they had set off one of the powder kegs. “You can’t be in my head, so how would you know any of that?” She asked despite herself.

“I don’t need to be in your head. It is written on your face for those who are looking to read it.” She tried to stand up straighter, face shifting through a grimace that radiated through her posture, making her curl further inward.

“Rey, let me help you. I promise you can go back to hacking at me again later since you are obviously much more comfortable with that.” He took one measured step towards her, seeming to be content with the small victory when she didn’t retreat further. He halted before her, perfectly still with his posture oddly loose, tension leaving him.

She squared her shoulders as much as she could, eyes flitting over him before meeting his dark gaze that seemed to have been softened by some strange – but genuine – concern.

“If you so much as make any move to –”

“You’ll kill me,” he finished drily. “You’ve made that fairly clear.” He took another tentative step towards her. “So?”

Why did he have to look so hopeful? She closed her eyes, blocking them from view. “Fine,” she finally grit out. 

If it’ll make you stop with the damn eyes, she silently added.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh ho ho... The trouble these two can get in when they go off on their own, eh? This chapter, as well as part of the next were actually the first thing I wrote for this story, so I am thrilled to finally get them out there! As always, hats off to DVeleniet for keeping me on track. This whole story is really thanks to her, or her fault depending on your preference. For me it depends on the day. ;) 
> 
> I hope I do not seem rude for not replying to all of the comments, part of me is afraid of falsely inflating the statistics by leaving replies. Maybe that is silly... But every one is read and appreciated! Please feel free to hit me with questions or anything else!


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